An old lady and a frog

I really enjoyed this one, Lauderdale by Laura Newbern in Poetry. I read as an expression of loneliness – extreme loneliness, even. Very pictorial, love the surreality of the grandmother sitting alone at dusk “in the light of the long pale pool” (cool sonics too) talking to a frog, the shades of her coiffured hair. By the electric gate of the clubhouse. The bug light. Such condensed short-hand – I’m reading Florida retirement community, for the well-to-do. Love the bug light. This lady has money, but not friends or family. The frog is waiting – (not squatting, or sitting or just being there) I like the choice of verb, it’s open-ended but at the same time creates a sense of purpose – what is the frog waiting for? The question informs the rest of the piece, unto the obliviousness and vastness of that sky.