THE TOAD by John Grey
The frog hops away
when I come near
but the toad remains still,
burrowed down in mud,
its brown scales camouflaged,
and only the arch of its eyes visible.
The frog understands
that the price of living close
to human habitation
is the occasional interruption
of its sunning, swimming about,
fly-catching existence.
But the toad is all defiance.
A huge difference in size
is made up for by the power
of unredeemed ugliness.
Kids leap over fiberglass frogs
in the nearby park.
They sketch their cute likenesses
in notepads.
But no kid plays leap-toad,
for toads are only ever real.
And if a kid draws a toad,
you worry for that kid.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, New English Review and Tenth Muse. Latest books, “Subject Matters”, ”Between Two Fires” and “Covert” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Haight-Ashbury Literary Journal, Amazing Stories and River and South.
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