I don’t know where
but there is water
in the tree line across the way
Water from the Gulf of Mexico
dropped below the foothills of the Appalachians
for a season
Vernal pools
shallow, ephemeral
long gone by the time summer arrives
I stand, on these cool spring nights
and listen from a distance to the frogs
who tell me of those pools
Mountain chorus frogs
unaware they were left behind
when their mountains took a long, slow walk
to the ocean
Polonius got that one right...
Ponderings to Keep
Reflections on my life as a teacher, reader, writer.
Polonius got that one right...
Polonius got that one right...
Polonius got that one right...
Blogging my way through the year
Polonius got that one right...
Polonius got that one right...
shouting my heart out for all who may listen
Polonius got that one right...
Lit On Fire!
"It would be nice if you could just ravel out into time."
Polonius got that one right...
Yet There is Method 
As I read your poem, I am taken by it’s flow, how it sounds.
I know I can reread it and think about the underlying meaning.
But it’s early and I’m just waking. For now I enjoy the sound and natural images.
Thank oyu for starting my morning with a lovely poem!
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Thank you, Sally. I love listening to the frogs in the springtime (I can here them as I’m typing this), and it was a fun thing to write about.
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I swear I thought I heard frogs the other day in the middle of my city! At my last apartment building there was a frog pond at the entryway to help control the mosquitos that spread all kinds of horrible diseases here, so maybe I did hear frogs… I love the time travel of your frogs.
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Erika, where there’s water, it’s not uncommon to find frogs! I’ve heard of using frogs for mosquito control, so maybe that’s what’s going on. Thanks for your comments!
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Swoon. Thanks for this Tim. You know you had me at vernal pools. Frogs are wonderful messengers, aren’t they? I heard my first bird-like frog calling out from the woods yesterday. Such a thrill. My poem today is based on the word “ephemeral,” so we are on the same wavelength.
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We’ve had frogs singing for about a month now, and I always love listening to them. I’m glad to hear frog season has moved that far north., and it’s neat that we both have “ephemeral” on the brain!
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Heard my first tree frogs Friday evening. Heavenly song.
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Calming. I can almost envision the picture you paint with your words, Tim. We have a retention pond behind our house for a new development that went in over the last three years. It’s actually supposed to drain but didn’t last year. The noise of the frogs in the early evening (many different kinds) was deafening and actually kind of creepy.
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It’s surprising to me just how loud a bunch of frogs can be!
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Yes… they are deafening when they get going. Very creepy and otherworldly!
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My brother, on his farm in Missouri, told me a week or so ago that the chorus had begun. I’ve only heard them a few times & it was quite amazing to me. I doubt they are exactly the same, but singing nonetheless. I love that ending, a thought for them!
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Thanks, Linda!
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It’s all connected! ❤ Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
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Ruth, yes it is!
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Your word choices here give me that lingering feeling like I’m taking a slow walk through your woods. Wonderful poem. And I will say it reminded me of Christie!
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Leigh Anne, thank you! As I was drafting the poem I actually told Christie that it had the words “vernal pools” in it. It’s kind of her thing!
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I do love that ending:
“Mountain chorus frogs
unaware they were left behind
when their mountains took a long, slow walk ”
lovely!
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Thank you, Heidi!
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This is gorgeous, Tim. I really love these left-behind frogs, and the geology and sense of time passing at the end. Short frog life offset by eons of tectonic plate movement–such a great juxtaposition.
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Laura, thank you. It’s strange to see the evidence we have of a past that was dramatically different than what we have now. Amazing!
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I love the sound of frogs and your poem reminds me of frogs that used to appear in a transient spring near my house in the spring. In your poem, the frogs tell you where the water is. Love that.
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Thank you, Janice!
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The spring peepers are singing away in our neck of the woods. I love listening to them each spring.
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They’re a favorite of mine!
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Something about that “long, slow walk” just grabbed me. Lovely poem, Tim, but I can’t fathom hearing frogs yet. Soon, though, their song will lift my spirits!
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Molly, spring is moving its way north and will be there soon! I’ve spent a lot of time recently (through a number of community education events) describing how the mountains that used to tower above the state of Alabama have eroded and now sit at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico and beyond. The “long, slow walk” was born there. Thank you for your comments.
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