Golden Toad

My basil seedlings

Lie askew

Their spindly thread-like stems

White against the moist black earth



By something.

The stick I poke into the pot


A speckled yellowish mound.

Some kind of fungus?

Warily I brush away more earth.


Two great dark hooded eyes

Are blinking in the light.

A golden toad sits there

Surprised as I

Throat softly pulsing.

He slowly lifts a leg

And then

moves off.

5 thoughts on “Golden Toad

  1. Erika Love this —inspired to try your brief form on similar encounters with nature. The simple way you taken the reader with you into the mystery of the pot and the surprise of the frog! J

    Sent from my iPhone



  2. I love this encounter brought to life by your patient, sensitive observation as recorded in the written word, in your art, and in your voice. Brava!


  3. Was this frog encounter at the villa or on your patio in town? I love the verbal image and the drawing!


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