Two tree frogs claimed
sanctuary on our back deck
Every night they keep vigil
one on the railing
the other on your chair
They don’t blink
as we shine
our lights on them
They know they are ascended from us
We move the chairs
around, stand talking
about them;
they keep their place,
heads pulsing beneath
smooth green skin.
That patch of skin
on the back of my hand
itches and scales
tree roots bulging
out from my soil
I cover it with Manuka honey
and a bandage
hoping it will heal
it gets better
then returns
Why fight it
this urge to overcome
my unfolding
Last night
one frog opened
his mouth as if to speak
Stretching out
my hand burst
into leaf.
© Jilly’s All Rights Reserved
Jilly's 
Fantastic.
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“Why fight it
this urge to overcome
my unfolding”
These lines resonated with me. I love how you’ve paralleled your process with the frogs.
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Oooh! Nice comment, VJ. Thank you for seeing this poem – it went through many edits to get it to the place where you get what it’s about. 🙂
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Worth the effort!
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“They don’t blink // as we shine….” You have so many great line breaks in this! Double (possible) meanings lingering like the frogs. And your take on the Pound prompt is wonderful… surreal and yet very real-feeling at the same time. One with nature… becoming nature. Great write, Jilly!
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Glad you liked it! (itch, itch)
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You are welcome, Jill!
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fabulous twist to the end Jilly – and the ascension of frogs, not jumping but pulsing – the frog skin association is excellent too. p.s. hope you are healing and not just peeling
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Thanks Laura! This poem was one of those where I pulled together two very real things. (I usually stay in poetic voice and don’t write from the world of Jill.) But in this case, we really did get the cold shoulder stand-off from two frogs one evening. Imagine two grown adults on the back deck, wine glasses in hand, ending up sitting inside. 🙂
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I like the world of Jill – you aimed it just right – not solipsistic – and beside Eliot has some lines for that
“Between two worlds become much like each other,
So I find words I never thought to speak”
[Little Gidding]
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