Frog Bog

And then a frog sang before the bog in that late afternoon.

All of a sudden, its first loud song struck my ear, deaf for nature
that day in particular.

Even if the rhythm was dreary, I could felt something unusual
surging from that kind of surreptitious soul of mine...

by sílvia oliveira

Comments (3)

yes, the feather in our heart says emily dickinson.
this was excellent. Short and too the point, but expressing emotion in the process. Just a frog singing, but sometimes even that can have an effect on us. I really like your style, check out my stuff if you get a chance
A lovely short poem, I can almost picture the bog, late afternoon, listening. I am so glad you're posting here for me to read and enjoy. Peace, L&T