a thumbnail sketch

tadpoles


so these tadpoles turned into frogs one early September morning
balanced on a rooftop belonging to someone they'd never met
waiting for the sun to come up
praying the sun would never come up


as the shadows would evaporate like dew
and the scars left behind would show clear
and he hoped she did not hear the gasp
as a tail dropped and rolled sloppily down the rusting tin




it landed near a pair of checkerboard hightops
a lavender sweater and a straw hat
unnecessary in the dark and the warm
steady toes, sure feet anchored to the top of this small pad

until one of them leapt



--apr '11/oct '16