Sunday, January 19, 2020

Mangrove swamp

Dark earth brooding
Mozzies, biting flies or imaginary gnats
Landing hits on tender skin
Body and limb squelch away, in yielding earth
While trees with wet boots trudge in cold cold sludge, & breathe & breathe
through straw-like roots, that snorkel out and up; 
Decay, everwhere, creeps once more
Into nostril, lung and pore

I know you have a purpose
But why must you be so awkward?

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