Bufo Bufo Poem by Armadillo Poet

When the trees even
Through the cold
Grow large and stay green

There can only be small hops
Of brilliant colors

Chasing after the glows
Of flies and the butters
Of worms


But even this smudge
Didn't escape the notice
Of wide black eyes
From the river's edge

Bufo Bufo
Stood upright
And walked
His face straight up
To the mountain forests

He could taste
The warm wriggling
In his tummy

He learned to stretch
His arms and legs
Until he could crawl
Up the cruels of the
Gray stone and then
Engulf baby frogs
In his deep mouth