The Swamp

Cattails grow up out of my muck taking root in the mire on my bottom creeping along in my soft blue clay, shooting up in long cylindrical spikes with a velvety fruit, encouraging red-winged black birds to nest, feed, caw and quack, at times acting more like a predator than prey, especially when local toms creep around the high grass on my banks, licking their chops, while bogs of ancient trees decay, discoloring stagnant water, where frogs, amphibians and a variety of snakes find places to burrow. Mosquito larva slip in among slime and weeds, sparrows hazard making nests in stumps and reeds protruding in the air black, green, round and mud snakes lurk in primal anticipation of bird brain nest strategies, although they have a preference for siren salamanders and small amphibians. Submerged and floating vegetation fill my shallow waters, where muskrats and water voles survive in a primitive atmosphere within shouting distance of a twenty-first century mall.