Whipping Frogs

By Dan McCarthy

My sons play warring in the morning

on the patch of dead grass,

burnt by the fertilizer.

The younger one invents

and organizes armies

as fast as the other can wipe them out,

so many letters home

to renting widows. I watch them

from my bedroom window.

My wife behind me’

she sleeps more these summer days.

The elder says,

“Let’s whip frogs against rocks.”

I watch them crawl toward the swamp.

– Dan McCarthy lives in Lawrence.