We all live any way we can.
We plant our gardens wherever we have room.
We relocate toads to sunnier climes.
It turns out that toads prefer dappled shade.
It turns out that toads dig in cool damp.
They use spaded hands and feet to escape the sun.
We have upset the toads, their habits of living.
Mistakes have been made.
We have made a mistake.
We wonder if spring can forgive us.
Will a toad forgive us, if we bend close enough to hear?
NaPoWriMo, Day 7 prompt: Write a poem in which each line but the last one is a single, declarative sentence. In the last line, ask a question.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
How interesting to use an animal like that for your poem! Especially as it seems to question humanity’s mistakes as a whole, not just with toads.. I like that sort of focus on one ‘problem’, and the garden imagery.
Thanks, Kerridwen! It was interesting to be so declarative and simple.
I’m intrigued by the Day 7 prompt, but I haven’t been able to follow it. Your poem shows me how it’s possible to do it not just successfully, but impressively!
Thank you! It wasn’t too hard once I let go of having much of a plan at the outset. Now, today’s was really hard.