Storm Toad

 

Storm Toad

in the brief moment

of headlights catching

a snapshot of life,

brown-grey, born from clay,

the heavy stride of toad,

forelegs muscular, tense,

dragging,

pulling,

across the tarmac,

a river to cross, sheets of rain,

distant rumbles of death,

the spray of murderous tyres,

the searing light,

then unforgiving night,

resolute plod,

grim jaw dripping

with the residue of stormdrops,

mortar shells, boulders fall

all around

crash into mottled skin,

but though pained,

she’ll crawl on,

find the bed

for the long

winter sleep.

© Mel Melis 10/10/2012