Ode To the Frog In the Breezeway
"Egin superbe a la robuste echine, par toi Marseille a pu au prix
d'un long effort, retirer des flots bleus, la celebre sardine
qui depuis cinquante ans bouchat l'entree de port"
--caption on a Vieux Port photograph
In the seaport city of Marseille there is a tale
of a sardine as large as a whale,"plucked
from streams of blue," as the French
succinctly put it, that blocked the entrance
of the Vieux Port for fifty years. Is it for folklore
of the fabled fish that a small green frog
takes residence in my breezeway? It's
not his fault if a need for salt
led him to linger beside my doorway.
He likes hanging out at the Old Port, grace
a' the photograph at my entrance, straddling
its frame, or dozing behind a decorated doorplate:
a miniature "maison" with Spanish tiles dubbed
"Familia Perez," appointing him resident frog,
main man of my diminished household, where
coming or going, we exchange small pleasantries,
(or I do). Civil land-lady to Family "Ranidae's"
amphibian animal. Let him stay, I say,
because I like his style. Too small to be called
king, I crown him a prince: His Highness, Lord
of the Breezeway. "Don't kiss any frogs
unless they're from Marseille," parting words
from a departing friend, so I don't pucker up for
this one. Big Frog, Little Frog, it's not the size
that counts. He's here to reinvent Pagnol:
Panisse and Fanny, a new, improved Marius
who left the sailor's life to find a wife--
chose me instead of the sea.
Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2009
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