The Tadpole Pond

wasn’t amusing to our cousin Kelly
when she got too close to gaze
at the large heads in that shallow pool

and fell in, her clothes becoming coated
with their paisley shapes. Never one
for the woods, she looked like a scarecrow

when she walked stiffly back
to the farmhouse, arms outstretched.
But she claims she was seated on a horse

when she fell from on high. Funny
how memory can live so close to
conviction. In her mind, she was

something like a centauris, and in my
mind she was nothing like a frog.