Once there was a tree frog, green as green can be.  
He liked to sing on summer nights whenever it was wet.
His voice seemed much too loud for such a little frog. 
He spent his day seeking juicy bugs to eat; 
with his clever tongue he quickly found a meal. 

One October he was looking for adventure.
He climbed a large camellia bush 
and found a tiny opening in a window screen.  
He climbed into a large bedroom. 
(He had to be a male frog – no female would be so foolish.) 
He hopped across the rug, collecting dust on his damp skin.
 I found him drying on the rug, covered with gray dust 
and barely able to crawl.
Oh, this bold adventurer was miserable!
He tried to escape my helping hand but couldn’t get away.  
He could hardly move, tripping on dust and grime
that stuck on his green skin.

I picked up the green frog with gray hair 
and washed him in rain water, until his skin 
was bare and wet like any self-respecting frog.

I imagined he smiled his thanks as I put him on a tree, 
far from the camellia bush outside the bedroom window.

           August, 2014

Moral: If you’re looking for adventure, be sure there is an exit.