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A Bawdy Tide

Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know - Percy B. Shelley 

Valentine thunder shakes logs, wakes frogs; they rise to rim a brimming pond. Be aroused, bellow the teeny beasties; there’s tadpoles to make before dawn. Crickets appear, their imperative clear rub legs, lay eggs, avoid birdies. Wood thrush returns from Panama jungles, odyssey skims the canopies. Song soaks the air in sponges around them; finding lungs in belly and skin. When green tides surge across umber fields, June arrives awash in new kin.

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