In the Realm of Toads by Donna Davis

In the Realm of Toads

My uncle’s yard was a riot of toads.
They appeared to me for the first time,
bursting out of every inch of lawn
like rolling bumpy spheres.
I was a child who had never seen
brown lumps that sprung and hopped.

I froze in place as they surrounded me,
their front fingers clawing dirt,
their stout back legs pumping.
They frantically burrowed into the ground,
fleeing under clumps of grass, purple clover,
and ragged dandelion leaves.

Through thick horn-rimmed spectacles,
my uncle’s childless wife was studying me,
her cotton-white hair twisted in a tight bun.
She said that if I were her daughter,
she would put me in a tattered gray dress
so that no one would want to take me away.

It was then I felt the dread of being small
and at the mercy of someone bigger.
The toads were diving between my feet,
forward, backward, everywhere I turned.
I wanted to disappear from sight
and hide with them beneath the earth.

*

Donna Davis lives in central New York. She has been published in Slipstream Review, The Comstock Review, Third Wednesday, The Raven’s Perch, Tipton Poetry Journal, Gingerbread House, Raw Art Review, and others. During her years as a small business owner, she had the honor of designing poetry chapbooks for clients such as The Comstock Review, Inc., including Ted Kooser’s book At Home. Donna was nominated for the Pushcart Prize and was a contest winner and featured writer in various magazines. Her work has appeared in several anthologies, such as Slipstream Review and the Anthology of the Wildflowers by Tiny Seed Journal. She has a deep love of poetry, art, and music, and recently learned to play the violin in fulfillment of a lifelong dream.