Inasmuch as anyone is able
to see the river slithering through mud
like a long dagger opening green blood
of silent dragon, there to enable
the mudfish to swim onto the table,
to land on the huge plate without a thud
as shiny crawfish swim out of the flood.
Their eyes reflections of some old-time fable.
We know, at sunset, crabs begin to crawl
across the road to fast boys wielding spades
who fling them in the trunk of daddy’s car.
Soon this hunt will end, and then begin the brawl
aw we move slowly into the new shades:
Now is the journey uphill not so far.
