Ceramic Frog
By Michael Warren
Sits in the garden, croaking
and croaking, but no one comes:
he’s a lonely frog, you can hear him
singing his silent song
to the green trees and the purple flowers.
You say “I hear nothing,
he’s a ceramic frog,
he holds a pot of azaleas
in his wide and friendly back
and there is no silent song.”
And I say “Everything has its own song,
the trees, the bougainvillea bush,
and the endless moving ocean:
the sun, the moon, the ceramic frog –
he sings, but you cannot hear him.”
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