THE GROOVE FONDUE

poems fondue

Sunday, November 27, 2005

aestivation

new leaf dust blows over
the frog that blinks twice, three times
before splashing up
from the ice cube sleep—
he uncorks his nostril
toward the smell of a cozy
mud hole
where he throws
soft dirt and laughter at
the horny toads

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous dijó...

You have an amazing talent. Where do you get your inspiration?
I feel very connected to your poem.
thanks

11:56 PM  

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