Toads the same
( from "The River ")
My stature falls to toad
hopping across the lily pads.
I cannot keep my feet dry on
land that dips in water with
no more than my weight applied.
What of the sun that beams through
trees showing my color not as it is?
Do you think I’m really so green?
It is from a forest
I come to bear breath.
Even tall reeds distort my view.
I cut without trail
through the mud of the cattail
below the cool relief of the breeze that
sways those heads
changing my course by
the lean of their hardened stems.
I’ve lost my need to
give my path reason to
other frogs who pass my way.
They too shine clear as
toads with wet feet
on lily pads
floating in the marsh.
~ Copyright © 2008 by Susan Durant. From The River. Used by permission of the author.