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I saw the bluebird first, its beating soft
red breast. Young water snake, I looked for it
next settled near the dock but it hadn’t
risen yet or already’d slithered off.
The pond’s cold. I won’t dive in. It is flogged
by nasty winds abstractly shattering
the sky on its surface like leaves fluttering
while real fallen ones nearby jump like frogs.
I’m so happy I can’t believe my eyes.
The barn swallows have returned from the south
coming like a promised kiss on the mouth.
Friends are welcome even when a surprise.
Pleasant remembered all but forgotten
thoughts bring the warm sun with them when they come.

Frog by Akram

Frogs by Akram

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