But we all know frogs go-

BOOMBA! Will anyone be my hey?

The clatter of dice hitting the table

warm sticky air, the sound of coins

jingling for purchase in the yard

the first fleeting sensation

warm ripples of liquid teal

across my sole; rumbling

lightning flashes, perfectly white

laying softly in the palms

Here amongst the tourists

like a single drop in an ocean

that single white drop

of a seashell, the echos and roar

ringing in your ears; will it stay?

For how long?

In years to come when someone picks

up that shell will they hear?

Laughter and jokes; no

just the low roar; but yes

I will

Remember this summer