TRUCKER TREE FROG

 Coming down my country road early in the morning,

Small tree frog lands on windshield, quite without a warning.

Smaller than a thumbnail, hanging on with sticky feet,

Thinks me, in the moment, here’s a sight that can’t be beat.

I saw my hitch-hiker hanging on for life and limb,

He did not share my delight, his future looked too grim.

I put myself in his shoes, er well, his little toes,

Suddenly I’m a tiny frog, one with giant woes.

Clinging to a mountain, shooting through the chilly breeze,

Even grabbing tightly, I hear knocking in my knees.

Wonder if the guy in there realizes all the fuss?

Sure do wish he’d pull over, and let me off this bus!

In a blink, I’m back and heading for nearby bushes,

Can’t blame my sudden rider, must respect his wishes

The truck pauses a foot away, grass moves in the air,

Without another howdy-do, tree-frog is not there.