Thirty-Three Toads and a Feather

Take a familiar walk in the dark. What changes?

Thirty-Three Toads and a Feather

Walk at the cusp of dark in the rain
with lightening bugs flickering in the bushes
and the birds silent in awe of the lost sun

The splash and dash on the path
could be a trick of the falling light
until you see it eight more times
Relax your eyes into the dark

You'll see toad-stoned shadows
as if Medusa has wound her hair into the vines
and holds their toadly gaze

Toads know Loud Walkers can't see in the dark
Stand ready to scramble to the slick mud
when a size nine foot becomes an umbrella
A flat toad is no toad at all

You walk lightly to tickle a toad with a a white striped feather
At least one in thirty-three still hold Medusa's gaze
Fear or trust, Loud Walker?