Toy Frog

Toy Frog

"He comes to life in the sun, watch,"
she said, opening her hand;
where on it's back lay a baby frog, lifeless.
Its belly was still,
and showed a glittering phosphorescent green
that shimmered as she angled it.
"I think that frog's dead honey," I said,
and her blue eyes looked up at me
this huge smile beneath them;
glowing with innocence.
"No, he's not, he comes to life in the sun."
And she left the tree shadowed shade
where we stood, and she squatted down
next to a patch of sun lit concrete.
She opened up her hand, and rolled the stiff,
lifeless frog onto the ground like a plastic toy¾
its legs and feet tucked tight, close to its body.
"See, I think he's dead honey."
"No, he’s not, they all do this,"
and I smiled as I began to turn around
and walk back to my chair.
But something caught the corner of my eye,
it was the frog, hopping in great bounds toward the wet grass.
"See, it’s the sun Daddy," she said smiling huge.