Night Frogs

I wake and find myself in the woods, far from the castle.
The train hurtles through lonely Louisiana at night...
When I look back, there is a blind spot in the car.
It is some bit of my father I keep not seeing.
I cannot remember years of my childhood.
Some parts of me I cannot find now...
Is there enough left of me now to be honest?
How much I am drawn toward my parents!   I walk back and forth, looking to the old landing. 
Night frogs give out the croak of the planet turning.

Robert Bly

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