“Mind where your steppin boy,
cows been in the field all day”
“Yes Larry. Do you think
we’re going to get many tonight?”
He didn’t answer me, just a wink.

On we walked, knee high grass to Larry
but some spots were tall enough
to tickle my change purse
which of course I didn’t like.

From the trees faint glimpses of winged
webbed creatures became airborne
diving to and fro.
Bats chasing sketta’s about
like a game of tag.
TV said they don’t have
no reflection, but there they be
in the pond water
right where we were headed.

Night feel quick, black as ink.
Can’t see my own hand in front of my face
but we ain’t out here lookin for my hand
No sir,weez lookin for frogs.
Big, fat ,eye bulgin, long legged frogs.

Around the pond we walked,
on the waters edge thru the weeds.
That’s where they like to float n croak
paying us no mind till it’s to late.

My 22 is loaded.
Larry lets me take the lead.
Actually he reckons I can’t clip him that way
so in front I stay.
The flashlight catches
my first set of pale yellow beady eyes
bobbing in the water.
“ Let him have it boy”
Larry whispers in my ear.

My Ruger ejects a hot shell out the side
Bam, right between the eyes.
I straighten up all proud of myself.
Then Larry smacks me on the back of my head,
“Don’t get cocky boy, your grandma coulda done
that while shuckin sugar snap peas and
pouring me a tall glass of ice tea.
I’m messin with ya nice shootin
Let’s go get some more”

When we were done that night
we had a string load of hopper frogs,
that’s how Larry called them.
Cut, skinned, egged and battered
One by one into a big ole black skillet
with country butter popping and melting.

Larry looked at me and smiled,
“Egg n Legs in the morning,
can’t beat that with a stick.”