Dead oak partially pokes its frame beneath the shore
barren branches bare the bounty hunters

First light fog floats saraband ghosts
aide-de-camp for deadly hosts

Hunters’ eyes hide to still the wise
prey unaware their short demise

Egret’s s-curved neck tripped by
optic noise of flashing fish

Noble efficacious kingfisher
patient for a flash then immersion

Water snake curls a wet branch with no bark in
masquerade for a bitter bite

Bullfrog boasts and beckons a mate then
tongues the wiggle of a wayward worm

Hollow log conceals some cunning fat catfish
whiskers waving waiting for the spring

Man’s demand for more and more land
drains these worlds to leave his stain

Nothing is gained when nothing remains of
this earth's cradle - these wet domains

11/20/2007

Posted on 11/20/2007
Copyright © 2026 Tony Whitaker