the road home winds slow
my bicycle is nodding
doors open drowsily
why must I tell this story
the edges hesitate
tomorrow is unstated
but sure to arrive early
tomorrow is unstated
but sure to arrive early
_____________________________
Pic: I thought these were slugs on my hellebores, but they're teeny, tiny frogs--each one the size of a pea! The wonders I continue to discover, sometimes even in my own backyard, amaze me.
10 comments:
Beautiful poem Maya! And... those teensy frogs. They're adorable!
Cute.
Tiny frogs!
I love the poem, Maya!
I like how your use of the whole word bicycle, rather than bike, gives the line a much better rhythm.
And those frogs! So cute...
I love this poem! And those tiny frogs!! So cute!
So lovely. And tiny frogs! There was a tiny spider on a kleenex I was using to clean my glasses this morning and I managed not to scream and throw it across the room.
That’s a lovely poem, and SQUEEE! (I can’t believe I just typed SQUEEE! I am NOT a SQUEEE! Person!) about those adorable little frogs!
Oh my! I have never, ever, even imagined a frog could be so tiny!
Thank you, friends! I'm so glad those tiny frogs delighted you too... I thought I might be the only one who didn't know they came that tiny.
I'm sorry I'm so late here. I meant to come back, but time got away from me.
This poem enchants me. The interruptive line "why must I tell this story" is almost a sigh. It's a perfect break here from the quotidian to the ethereal. I love it.
And those frogs! I want them all.
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