When I discover polliwogs, oh, I,
Regard their resolute approach towards
The ebb and flow of time – without a try,
They bend and change to nature’s old accords.

A polliwog is what I must be now
And all days in the future; I need to
Be pliant.  Not confined to a mired slough,
But hopping under sunlight and sky blue.

With constellations heartening to me through
Night I will voyage the earth as more than
A little polliwog – I am free to
Learn to grow and mature in a new land.

The pond I was born in is now too small,
To keep a polliwog like me next fall.