Small Dirge for a Frog
A surge through
Heart’s drapes.
Escapes to hear
A small dirge.
A miss me song for a frog.
Caught on the wrong side
Of a Goodyear. I was remiss
In not seeing.
Not to flee the burgeoning kiss
Of vulcanized and headlamp urgency,
This frog was remiss.
Remiss those focused frogs,
Fraught with patience, are.
You played a game of chicken
Too well, not looking or knowing
The knowing or looking
Of me. You don’t look so well.
The wind rushes past the side
-view. It holds my long look
For a few. Until night’s drapes
Dim a hard gleam from its two
Eyes, each a candle wick
Just blown out.
[11-7-03 Berkeley, CA]
poem by David Floren
Added by Poetry Lover
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