He brings me frogs
When trees turn dim and lose their scent,
And birds have ceased to call
When nighthawks glide through misty glades
And fiery Mars comes up from shades
When fireflies blink and crickets wheeze.
and deer cough deep and owls sneeze
The sky spreads its carpet of myth
Up ending Orion,
while I, sitting on a stone,
move the branch into the glow and wait
‘til tousle haired, he brings dazed frogs, which,
steamed with greens, and pungent spice,
we serve on leaves with sticky rice
and eat with bamboo shots. .
Nyok!