I remember
when we were younger
we kept a toad together as a pet,
and called him Frog.
We danced on grass in summer
and lay warm together during Winter. And Frog was happy to ribbit between us, his great mouth billowing
while we laughed just to hear each other.
When you moved away,
I let you keep Frog, but he must have been sad.
He died soon after. You told me over the phone,
but you didn't cry.
I guess you had him dried or stuffed or else squashed, and now he's locked in some big chest,
lonely in your attic.
Where I suppose you are too.
J Midgley, age 16
Comment what you think the poem means?☻
