Toadlet

Toadlet Sitting smoking at stupid am well before coming dawns glow disturbed from restless sweaty sleep by spattering mill or two of rain and as I sit on damp door steps a toadlet hops into the light peeking out from my window. Bedazzeled she freezes I watch we wait we listen together to night I look away she takes the chance she moves, a tiny hop, and freezes once again I lift my hand and guide my shadow Towards and over her She hops and freezes. We do this dance she and I A few times round together, (I flatter myself, it’s just her instinct To avoid all silent night predators) So I cease my torment of unwanted attention Directed at this young lady She is questing for a mate Using damp for safer travel Seeking a boasting alluring call She makes damp grass And in a great leap Disappears into the night While there I sit in self important vestments of human skin, but. it occurs to me that her life’s mission Is no less important than mine She seeks to survive to find a mate to raise her tadpoles safe and well in a home with comfort and food What more does any creature seek When life is stripped of dross I dust off my human arrogance And sincerely wish her luck Sigh get up and go inside for large cool drink and hopefully sleep. ©T.Arnold