FROGS IN EARNEST|
"Though boys throw stones at frogs in sport, the frogs do not die in sport, they die in
-Bion, c.325 b.c-255 b.c.
Along the water's edge at Freezee's pond
we'd bash them, trash them any way we could,
and watch them twitch, then hoard the seed they'd spawned,
scooped up in jars with grass and bits of wood.
The eggs became black commas, wriggling host,
a mass of teeming punctuation marks,
until these bits of life gave up the ghost,
fast-fading, frail, extinguished creature sparks.
At recess time and after school was out
we'd torture Charles whose stutter made it sport,
and I took part, oh shame, a mindless lout,
in savage jibes to see his face contort.
We whooped, ignoring agony and tears,
inflicting wounds to fester all his years.
Emery L. Campbell
EMERY L. CAMPBELL, 82, Lawrenceville, 1999 National Senior Poet Laureate, has won numerous awards sponsored by Amy Kitchener's Angels Without Wings Fdn. and other poetry organizations. His brilliance shines in his 2005 book “The Gardener's Impossible Dream” containing poems and translations from the French of poems by La Fontaine, Rimbaud, Baudelaire and Verlaine. He is a Leo.