Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
And then they stopped.
Little frogs stopped their night sounds.                    
I couldn't figure out how to describe the sound.
Certainly they weren't chirping
for they were not birds          
Nor cricketing for they were not crickets.
Quirky quaking.  
But isn't quaking quake,    
which means to shake violently?
They seemed to be
tiny ribbets actually
Perhaps two whole steps higher
on the piano keys--
higher than the pitch I have
in my head.      
Perhaps even an octave higher.

No matter.
They were tiny ribbets to me.    
Tiny ribbets actually.
Mariana Miranda
Written by
Mariana Miranda  Philippines
(Philippines)   
444
   Arlo Disarray
Please log in to view and add comments on poems