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Camp Yavneh
June 1, 2014
The frog nuzzles up to me
muddy feet squeaking
to the rhythm of its ribbit
when a raindrop falls between us it
jumps back
quietly
so that the wind can pass us by
on the muddy path
The frog nips closer again
and scoots to settle
on my lowered fingers
muddy fingers
like hers
and we look
into each other
s eyes
a muddy drop lounging on
her eyelid
I found a frog on the way home today.
We cried.
© Tory E., Edgewood, KY
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