Grasping Frog

I saw a Spanish frog

today

 

green,

(as most frogs are)

sitting not upon a tree

nor in a pond

and not in Spain

(why not Spane?)

 

but famously,

in a grasping manner,

my professor’s shoulder,

like my poor-dead-cockatiel

did all those years ago:

clinging toes fore and aft

with ONLY the smallest of pain

to my flesh.

 

Coffee was

in all the

images.

 

I recall

a mug

like this,

thisone

with handle

POINTING to me

this frog – this bird – this mug – this

upon which so much

depends.