Oil of Olay Frog
Soft, cool mud oozed between my toes, my woes left me alone to bask in a summer day.
An insect bit me on the arm causing a memory lapse in both me and the insect at once.
I perch above the creamy oil- 0f-olay sand, the waves swing in to smooth out the surface.
Now I have a clean easel, with rock in hand, sharp, swift I ruin important clouds of images that gently kissed my wavering thoughts.
I clear my throat, surprising a frog who takes his work day to a quieter place.
Again I bask in the sun like the frog before me.
I continue my day, alone, the frog gone
