Home

Tired

From the long drive

Home,

I laid down

In bed

Expecting

To be embraced

By evening’s

Quiet

Stillness.

Instead,

A merry raucous

Of horny

Frogs

Caroused

Through the night,

Drunk

On spring’s

Fertility.

—We’re silenced

Only

By the soft patter

Of a pre-dawn rain

And the songbird’s

Morning reveille.