Tree Frog

Poetry

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

He was still holding on —
his toes curled
around the A/C unit’s grate
as the turbine turned
his head and torso
into a limp piñata
too stubborn to release
its gifts to the summer-
crunched husks of arthropods

at the bottom of the copper,
aluminum and steel belly —
when I was relieved
there’s no need to repair or -place.