Fog days do come and go

Sunlight strikes and like death it is gone

Unless you’re on the battlefield

The hot sticky death that capsizes bodies

Blood and guts trickling out seducing wild animals to celebrate in glee

All that is but the frog

Wetness gleams

Belching calls with bad breath stare blankly

Death must be a frog

Green like death

Slimy like death

Disinterested like death

And like death smell rot like peat bottoms

The frog looks out

Swamp moss and shadows protect

Men fighting a fight that others will fight again at another time again

Balls of iron drop from the sky

The frog notices their ingenuity had gotten better

He licks his mucusy lips

Frogs know not the difference in the death of man or the death of an old lady in her bed

Both bring flies

Thunder claps

Water falls from the sky

Darkness lies like a tight blanket

The last iron ball falls on two young boys

Anger

Frog belches loudly at the gods above

How will he now choose who will die

Fires light

In vengeance

Frog releases vampires on shallow skin

Buzz meets belch in death march

A plus means a pass from death until iron swings at days first light

O negative means feast delight

One by one a frogs visit meet until not but the guilty are left

Roll down green canvas do guilty men pull to throw on broken wagons and weary furry backs

limbs buried and bodies prayed over

Men leave and women enter to cry and move stones

Frog smacks in short term happiness filling the aching belly if only for a short time