by Dorothy Cantwell
In early May, beneath the stars,
the air is humming
as the young, male tree frogs
trill their love songs into the darkness—
long, shuddering sighs of desire,
one beginning where another leaves off,
like chanting monks in an ashram.
A continuous whir of longing in the night
and each young frog knows only
the ache of his own passion
that vibrates in his swollen throat
and has not even imagined,
nor does he care,
who or what she will be
when she is finally before him,
warts and all.
Dorothy Cantwell lives in NYC and has worked as an educator, actor and playwright. She’s been a featured poet in Great Weather for Media Sunday Series, Su Polo’s Saturn Series, Patricia Carragon’s Brownstone Poets, and the Huntington Poetry Barn. Her work has been published in the Long Island Literary Journal, Brownstone Poets Anthology, Constellate Literary Journal, Flash Boulevard and will appear in The Assisi Journal 2020. She is currently working on a chapbook, Awaiting Solace.
Lovely Dorothy ! So glad that you pursued your talented art ! Here is to you dear, talented cousin !
Thank you! Thinking of you and all your dear ones.
Love this! And I know where those frogs live:) Congratulations! Beautifully written.