Frogs, a poem by Michael Channing

Frogs

by Michael Channing

thousands of tadpoles
all growing limbs and plump disposable tails
cluster along the edge of my pond
i watch daily as
the squiggly black points of life
attempt to ripen
into a throng of frogs

in just three months
their song should soak the evening
heavy ricochet between the weeds
but when the time comes
for the moistened orchestra to strike
a sharp silence spreads
i lean out of my room
and realize a well-fed family of snakes
is just as much a miracle
as a fully-stocked pond of frogs

Somehow So Badly Arranged


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Scraps
Now Available

Scraps, a collection of horror poems by Michael Channing

January 29, 2021