Two toads diverged in a greenish wood,
And sorry I could not hold them both
And be one amphibian lover, long I stood
And looked at one as far as I could.
To where it got squished in the undergrowth;

Then I looked at the other, just as fair,
It’s skin had for sure the better claim,
Because it was spotted and shaped like a pear;
The children said “touch it” on a dare
But they’d squished this one too…about the same,

Now Both, that Morning equally lay
in state, near the dirt I then dug, quite black
Oh I kept the first for another day
In the jar of formaldehyde Toadie did lay
I doubted it’s life would ever come back.

I shall be dissecting this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two Toads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less damaged by,
The “squishing”, and *that* will make all the difference.

~Posthumous acknowledgment and apologies to Robert Frost