this last day of April, with rain

The bullfrogs
cloaked inside memories of an earlier thunder
are singing their low midnight anthem.

My body is chanting too.
Knee-deep in the loam and moonlight
I grasp into the fecund dark
for some profound words to startle myself sane.

What offering can I bring to this night
like it is mine to name?

a half-unwrapped longing
the tender crack of bent wrist
this delicate devouring of my own sorrow

I wet my lips
while the Moon pulls herself into fullness
while the frogs find their purpose

and every night-blooming flower
opens with gratitude
at the mere mention of shadows.

By Ashley Loper

Biography:

A fan of dark fruits, dark chocolate, and dark, rainy days, Ashley Loper started birthing poetry like gentle rabbits out of her body at a young age. Her poems draw inspiration from the natural world, the human condition, and all the equal measures of brutality and softness that exist in between. What she lacks in logic, she often makes up for in parable. You can find her literary best friends at http://goodreads.com/feralocity.