Night of the thousand dead frogs

Last night was the night of the thousand dead frogs.
The rain fell so hard it washed away all the dry dust.
The entire road had a huge smudge of water on it.
I went out driving while it was raining in the dark.
The rainfall was the only sound in the silent night.
Darkness only disturbed by the headlights of my car.
A ride where white meets black right there in front.
A landscape only decorated by lines of tears from above.
Raindrops falling so hard the wipers cannot keep up.
The wind fighting a struggle to sweep you off the road.
A fox crosses the road while looking like a starving cat.
The distance seems to grow longer for every mile.
The destination seems further away than it did at first.
Water is lying on the road making a miniature flood.
The flood leaves the frogs to try and save their lives.
The road so full of water that the frogs swim across.
Tires loosing grip of the road makes it hard to brake.
Blindness in the dark leaves the frogs to get run over.
Driving slow to notice every little thing coming up.
Seeing dead frogs floating around on the rainy road.
People thinking nobody would go out in this weather.
Recklessly they skate the road slipping when turning.
The radio drowning in the sounds of falling raindrops.
All blinded by the white headlights of oncoming cars.
The black night is the long dark tunnel which you're in.
Suddenly disturbed by a white light coming towards you.

- by Kiri Rehmeier