Sneaking Up On Frogs, Waptus River Trail
You can’t.
They are full of singing,
a distant echoing purr
until you get close enough
to hear individual voices,
each one a passionate solo.
The stealthiest foot steps–
not a twig rustles.
The most furtive motion–
smooth as a breeze through
lichens dangling from conifer boughs.
Still they know
and the song stops, frog by frog.
Are they also silent for the deer
whose tracks punch through this snow?
For the bear
who trod through this mud?