The Music of the Night

Froglet

Froglet

Poem

A brief break in storm rains

Creep outside, muffled to the eyebrows

Breath billowing ice-clouds before you

No moonshine filtering through heavy clouds

Pitch black

Senses change from sight to sound

To scent for Mr SL

Sniffing, shuffling, old boy

Round a corner, rain falls anew

Icy, spiky, pin pricks on your face and hands

Then you hear the music of the night

Peeps of frogs behind garden walls

How do they survive in this man-made land?

Somehow a little spark of nature

Seeks to reclaim our invasion

And the night no longer seems so cold.

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