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Frogs

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A palm tree near the pond, Yuma Conservation Garden, Yuma, Arizona
 
 

Frogs, as I pass by your pond,
show me your beauty.
Come out of the mud.
Taste the clear night air.
Pretend to be stars or moonlight!
Sing to the flashing planets,
sing with your flickering tongues,
sing a song of sixpence,
fill your lungs with spring!

 

Poem © 2018 and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
   
More Sunday’s Whirligig #147
   
More Poetry Pantry #389 at Poets United

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Strange Little Songs

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~~ 1 ~~
 
With plastic roses,
some of them scarlet, some white,
we freshen the graves.
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
a spicy salad—
picking at it in silence
with white plastic forks
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
a discarded tire
verses carved in the sidewall
honoring road trips
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
Discarded boxes—
seven refugees pretend
they have found new homes.
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
blind man’s violin
flying as though Marc Chagall
had lifted his brush
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
no one knows their names—
illegible inscriptions
on toppled tombstones
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
God wears out his shoes
and takes them to the temple
for some quick repairs.
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
demanding a song
from the bird that cannot sing—
demented woman
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
holding hot cocoa
in my left hand while scribbling
haiku with my right
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
two children use them
to play a game of marbles—
olives from the bowl
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
the stench of decay
rising from New Orleans streets
after Katrina
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
an old apple tree
bearing rusty jackknife scars—
Kevin loves Suzanne

 
Poems © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #23