I am

a four toed toad woven in brown green warty skin,
short hop my gait. My pawned life
in a pond, started from a tadpole
and in the water and land culture crossed
I feel at home.Life to me is not a destination
but a movement so build I not a future, the present
is what my life is.
My bulging eyes, watching every where have not much to see, my real work is just
looking and listening. Snail like I drag not
back packed with regret and guilt ridden past
but I'm ever ready to answer the call
to pack nothing and leave.
From tight fist, like happiness, I leap out
and as all, travel the same weather,moving
in years.
A splash here in the puddle
a brief sunbath in the brief sunset glow
keeps my heart aglow,
considering
each day of my life to be the best,
living
with close intimacy with the dust, our oldest ancestor.
I catch a spider here
a worm there
for my daily need
to the delight of the farmer.
I do not trade my now
for the next might not come, instead
a skunk would pop up or a heron's huge sword beak.





Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 27 times
Written on 2026-01-05 at 01:07

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