Surrounded by night, the shriek of unrelenting frogs
roused after torrential rain, covered in the long reeds
that flourish by the fast-running creek and rice fields.
A lotus flower wanes, floats on a pool of fresh water
collected in the lid of a large vase. A snake lies still,
curled on the base. This is not usual. The phone rings
near midnight; my sister tells me my father has gone.
Words are interspersed with frogs; it will be hard
to recall this type of nature untouched with sadness.
The frogs do not stop all night, until the snake slips
away into the reeds. I do not see it again till days later
when it quietly slithers out of its den, leaves behind
silence, and the transparent shell of moulted skin.
First Published Axolotl Issue 1 2014