Toad
Norman MacCaig
Stop looking like a purse. How could a pursesqueeze under the rickety door and sit,full of satisfaction, in a man’s house?
You clamber towards me on your four corners —right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot.
I love you for being a toad,for crawling like a Japanese wrestler,and for not being frightened.
I put you in my purse hand, not shutting it,and set you down outside directly underevery star.
A jewel in your head? Toad,you’ve put one in mine,a tiny radiance in a dark place.
About the author
Norman MacCaig (1910–1996) was a Scottish poet, teacher and lifelong pacifist. He loved the city of Edinburgh, where he lived his whole life, and the Western Highlands, where his mother grew up, and these landscapes and cityscapes are…