frogcircus.org

the poetry of Charles Fry

post

2015–

defi

2009–2013

belle

2007–2002

dada

2002–1999

sundance

1999–1997

frere

1997–1995

julian

1995–1994

stone

1994–1993

16 December 1996

dedication

I slide my hand into the small puddle
then reach and trace the imprint of my crooked fingers into the mud.
A small wait as the water swirls then calms.
Reflecting your soft eyes into mine.
"Hey, what are you doing here" I ask the puddle.
"Oh, just hiding to see how soon you will find me" you respond.
I think about this, and start sliding my hand through the warm mud
spinning your face through the sky with the trees.
You softly laugh, in time with the rippling of the water.
"Hey, what are you laughing at" I ask as the waves settle.
"Oh, just that it tickles a little to be twirled so" you say.
I think about this, and carefully slip my hand back out.
This time it is you who looks at me wonderingly.
But I only turn around and begin walking up the grassy hill.
"Hey, where are you going so soon" you whisper.
"Oh, just a little farther up this grassy hill" I reply,
smiling so big that I dare not look back over my shoulder --
until I can no longer hold in the cry of glee that escapes my lips
as I turn around and start running, running
and then closing my eyes I jump up, arms open pure and
wide enough to hold the whole sky.
And this time I am laughing along with you.

 forgotten memories   of being burned at the stake   sweet dreams   sharing   hand-in-hand   the stranger   hidden courtyards   holding You   princess   happy day   loneliness   fragile, handle with care   my small trip to the cement factory   dedication   this record is for You   the day that I cried   Last night I woke up under my bed.   my silver Dancing shoes   Man my heart tears.   the three things   strait jackeght   like you   abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz   Fire cooks me   Princess Alexandra:  A Little Story   cats up cat twice   sweet rain water   little children   my heart   How blind I am in wooden glasses.   I know she's crying cause it stains her voice,   Dear Family,   I pound at my heart   We run away from the ice cream truck   purple sunset   J. Elephant   so i walk up to you with this   the Soul queen   so, you say that i do not speak   window   dear sweet old Ordinary   i am a Harp