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Journal

Frogs

This was the year
When we began to doubt
Whether the earth
Would recall how to spring
From beneath her shell
Even as the snow (finally)
Disappeared, the grass
Forgot to green until
This evening
We shed our layers
Beneath the waxing crescent
Listening to the frogs
Emerge from the ground
To sing, the scent
Of the earth and water
Mingling in the sweet
Smell of spring