Archive for April 6th, 2021

Tuesday, 6 April 2021

Afternoon of a Toad by David Thompson Watson McCord

The purblind toad, a stain of rust
In uncooperative dust,
Is happy now to readjust

His hop-and-stop in stippled shade
Of dahlias where the hose has made
Primordial ooze. Slugs, bugs parade

With flying batons, floats, balloons;
One surfacing pink worm festoons
Himself. Such summer afternoons

Are paradise. The swift unhung
Now flickering amphibian’s tongue
Forks lightning out amid, among.

From: McCord, David, “Afternoon of a Toad” in Poetry, August 1979, p. 281.

Date: 1979

By: David Thompson Watson McCord (1897-1997)