A frog outside my window jumps and knocks against the glass. I stare through screen, tempted to speak, wonder if a whisper's better suited, say nothing. He jumps again, and then, he slowly starts to climb; inserts his tiny legs in square wire mesh and pulls, straining for the top. He falls. He hits his head on window, jumps once more, then twice. Ten more times he tries. He stops and sits astride a leaf. He stares in silence as it rains.