The frog comes
on little toed feet.
Glad on pad soaking
rafts, wafts nenuphar away from city zen smog
mist_story current flows from current woes
in bog, in pond beyond poetic reads
It sits croaking.
Silence? - you’re joking! -
until it croaks.
Jonathan ROBIN
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/f-r-og-parody-carl-sandburg-fog/
