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Two Poems, by Sue Blaustein


I think I know
what a cold frog thinks
so I put words
like I’m freezing
into his or her mouth.

I assume it’s cold
nearly to death
while maybe
it isn’t at all!
I think I know

what a cold frog wants.
Cold (and hot
and lukewarm) frogs surely
want the way I want.
So I hand out

antipathies and desires
to every frog I see.
I make them say
leave me alone!
Or shout I’m so

glad you’re here!
Who’d you vote for?
Where’d you buy those boots?
I wouldn’t be caught
dead wearing that!

The Green Swan

          If the door
to this one-car garage is raised,
          you’ll vanish.

You’re a painted swan,
olive green – spanning four
          of seven panels.

          Five stick-on letters
aligned by the lock spell “James”.
I’ll pretend he’s the one who painted you!

          Why not?
          He added reeds
to suggest a waterworld – yours, and his.

On a Saturday in May,
when it’s still cold before daylight,
my make-believe James

pulls up to the bait shop. He’s
going to Fremont for white bass,
maybe Beaver Dam for panfish.

Go to Beaver Dam. See
the white pelicans.