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.
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