titan tires and the tiny toads.

Bloated and fading,
they dot my path like landmines.
Tiny gray tigerish skins stretch across the gravel
and decay slowly
as tires tread over their smashed skulls.
Sunken eyes and lips that appear to be smiling,
their once red tongues rolled out
like award season red carpets.
I step gingerly, reminding myself that
they were once alive,
that I wouldn’t want rubber soles
stamping on me when I’m gone.
Literally littered, the asphalt becomes
a battleground between the Titan tires
and the tiny toads.