Frogging Sonnet

Those orbs that ever stare, yet never blink,
So globular, like spheres, and yet so round
That Mother Earth herself must, shrugging, wink
And own her match, rotundity-wise, found
Do captivate and fill me as you squat
In seeming sleep, half-grinning, in a dream.
But foolish fly: Beware! for, like the cat
Those eyes are less unseeing than they seem–
And tongue! What of the tongue, so long and forked
As lightning racing forth to fry its prey
While you, as thunder, rumble deeply: "blork"
And tumble after, triple-toes asplay.
   Far deeper than the shade of springs to come
   Those blues defy the sky, outgreen the thumb.

Jan. '00

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