A small offering for Tues.

[Joan Winokur]

In Tune

Alone             a frog squats on a rock

croaking a raspy tune, a love song to his ears—      

one to beckon his lady to his side.

To me            it’s a coarse, grating sound,

more likely to repel than entice—

but who am I to judge?

One man’s ballad may be another’s dirge.

Your song may be the serenade

someone has been longing to hear.                 

Joan Heller Winokur