golden eye of the green frog



Down to the black drooped willow leaves. The pool was black. Orange flowers stood in a row, their yellow-striped petals, curving backward. The orange was yellow-striped. Around the orange petals rose narrow leaves.

It had dragon eyes. The blue stick hung bluely. With dragon eyes the stick stared. It didn’t move. I didn’t move. It didn’t move. I didn’t move—then—gone.

I crept behind the drooping leaves, watched now from the drooping leaves. There. Close. A frog. Green with dark spots. The blue swung low, facing me from the side and turned and backed slowly away. The frog sat green and still: an eyelid. Blinked. Slowly. Unblinked. I waited. Holding a bucket I waited: eye black. Gold circled—then

I leapt from the leaves with the bucket big bucket high swinging over and down—heavy down down down in the water deep—

And I had him!

I had him.

[I was four years old when this story occurred. If you gaze into the blackness of the EYE, you can see me leaning over the lily pool.]

2 Responses to “OBSESSION”

  1. Janice,
    I was four years and two months old when this event occurred.
    If you look into the blackness of the eye, you can see me leaning over the lily pool!

  2. I loved this– I never caught one of my own, but remember hours spent beside a creek watching for crawdads. What fun!

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