Croak

On a still summer evening
Bullfrogs soak in a pond
Swelling the sky and trees
With their approving syncopation

There is no smoother pond
Croaks one to the others
There is no brighter moon
Croaks one to the others
There are no dearer companions
Croaks one to the others
There is no finer chorus
Croaks one to the others

And on they went
Strumming the chord of that still night

-T. Weeks
(A response to “Old Age’s Ship & Crafty Death’s“)