Spring Peepers
by Kate Wright
On our porch at dusk,
my sister and I listened to the familiarly
strange croaks echoing
through the bare, but budding woods.
“Spring peepers”
my father blamed for the sounds.
Dragging us by our
imaginations, he led us
on an adventure
through the rapidly darkening
forest to find the alien
creatures, in murky ponds and muddy
marshes. Self-camouflaging
like iguanas, my father said they snatched up
children lured into “the jungle”
by their song.
Tucked into my sleeping bag
I lay frozen with fear.
My sister’s knowing snickers mixed
with the siren song
of the peepers
tempting us beyond our porch
into the pitch black of night
to discover the truth…
Of the matter
hid in my dad’s head:
how he loved spinning tales
for us to get tangled up in.
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