Young Bullfrogs

Jimmy Wimbleton listened a first week in June.
Ditches along prairie roads of Northern Illinois
Filled the arch of night with young bullfrog songs.
Infinite mathematical metronomic croaks rose and spoke,
Rose and sang, rose in a choir of puzzles.
They made his head ache with riddles of music.
They rested his head with beaten cadence.
Jimmy Wimbledon listened.

by Carl Sandburg

Other poems of SANDBURG (456)

Comments (1)

Awful narration, I'd rather read it in silence. Carl Sandburg must be rolling over in his grave!