The absence of time: a poetry collection

a toad's catching

through the crisscrossed hatch

of my beginner butterfly net

sat a toad-

its eyes ablaze,

its body pulsating

with a thump and raspy croak

my hand a landing pad,

slimy skin stretched

across my riveting

confusion

unspoken conversation

in its inanimate glance

as the padding of

foxes' feet

echoed below,

the rustling of leaves

in hasty reply,

returning to his

forest pond

while I silently whispered,

"Come Back."