Anytime I read poetry, I’m clobbered with inspiration and I take to pen and paper. And lately I’ve been writing poems more frequently, anywhere between 2-3 poems a week to the occasional streak of a poem a day. It’s also spring, and with every walk outside, every flower or tree in bloom, I see a poem. Here’s one inspired by the toads in my neighborhood.
Toad in the Road
Glass smooth paper skin
greets me like a cold dawn,
the call of a 2am stir.
I am a bulbous toad croaking
in the dark.
Whatever we had going for us
has vanished like the road unlit
by the once flickering flashlight for tag.
Once we had what they call a fling
but most animals don’t
mate for life.
There is still sleep to be had
you know, I know.
The toad chirps twice, three times
then it’s off to bed, mind
flickering like an open slab of road.