Splish splash, hippity hop, swish swish, ker-plop,
the sounds of frog catching in the summer.
The child from next door hands me her prize,
A frog in a plastic dixie cup, how wrong it seems.
She wants to catch more–all five of them she sees,
and asks that I hold this prisoner while she goes netting.
I want to indulge her, but, I’ve grown up.
The innocent cruelties of children no longer sit well.
And so I say, “Let’s let him free,”
Pour this specimin of R. calmintans back into his pond,
and challenge the neighbor girl to a race.
The little grey frog clings to my window,
soft white belly displayed for all to see,
Shamelessly showing off his froggy body,
self-consciousness? No way, Not he!
From outside he is green and pebbly,
Though his species is called grey,
I put my camera in his face,
He got mad, and hopped away.