Army of Dartness
Beneath a canopy where daylight survives only as rumor, a congress of poison dart frogs takes the forest floor, each jewel-bright body burning against the green dark like an ember that refuses to go out. Crimson, cobalt, tangerine, and a green lit as though from within scatter across a tangle of palm fronds, fallen timber, and the patient gold of woodland mushrooms. These small amphibians of the…














