#577 - frogs are dying on the horse's birthday

 

1.viii.21

577

2.212

two poems

 

frogs are dying on the horse’s birthday

 

with a whinny and a neigh, nonny no

pinch punch

 

in Spring

(though nothing official as such)

met wallaby, threw shadows

 

surround myself with inkling thereof

consider experiments – little balls

(various), magnets, drugs

 

skin is their Achilles’ heel

ailing black shrivelled and dead

 

who needs slippers?

after a first thing organ recital

today I can make it in socks

 

horses are partying

in their green paddock

Spring!

 

frogs not so much

it’s Lethe

on the plonk

frogs forget

soon all must boil

 

‘slow sombre music’ it says

right at the bottom of the screen

 

I fold myself in two, in three

and the file the day away

 

 

 

 

once upon

 

time was in everything

            woke with it then

 

a certain bird told

      and here, steady up

 

come yellow, large

 

tail feathers raised

 

an eloquence

I was the silence

                   to watch

 

once midst of all

and read such signs

 

that had to be a beginning