Frog Bog Poem by sílvia oliveira
Frog Bog
And then a frog sang before the bog in that late afternoon.
All of a sudden, its first loud song struck my ear, deaf for nature
that day in particular.
Even if the rhythm was dreary, I could felt something unusual
surging from that kind of surreptitious soul of mine...
this was excellent. Short and too the point, but expressing emotion in the process. Just a frog singing, but sometimes even that can have an effect on us. I really like your style, check out my stuff if you get a chance
A lovely short poem, I can almost picture the bog, late afternoon, listening. I am so glad you're posting here for me to read and enjoy. Peace, L&T
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/4/2026 9:51:59 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
yes, the feather in our heart says emily dickinson.