David Floren

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]

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 10, 2008
Poem Edited: Sunday, February 10, 2008

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