From behind our house
a Bullfrog Chorale
serenaded us every night,
It started at eight
and stopped promptly at twelve
going off like the switch of a light.
While they bellowed and croaked
the frogs’ music we soaked
up in all of its ribbity splendor,
Thinking ‘This could be worse,
they could go on all night,
or their singing could sound like a blender.’