By April Moseley

Unexpected movement.
A shift on the wind.
Curiously my vision fixes
and settles on and old friend.

How do you do?
It has been too long!
Where have you been?
Can you still sing your song?

Little brown toad,
A surprise in the dirt.
Tangible piece of childhood.
A reward for being alert.

Holding you for a moment,
Sensing your fear.
I put you down wistfully,
Knowing you will be near.

Shelved nostalgia of a carefree time.
Dust-covered volumes
Untouched for years:
A crime.

Smiling, unguarded
An inner peace that glowed.
And who would have guessed how it came about-
From a handful of hoppy toad!