Poetry

Crawdaddies

The sedimentary matter,
having been dredged,
is now disturbed.
It is roiled and it swirls
menacingly. A darkly kaleidoscopic
vision which eclipses the
fleshy tones of the sky above.
Soon it settles along
the river floor. Crayfish
covered in mud brandish
their ragged claws at each other.
They revel under
this layer of silt,
scuttling blindly and anointing
themselves with muck.
Antennae flailing in the milky
brown water. A series of
lopsided tracks left behind
in the sludge by the advancing
troupe of crawdaddies.
They sense something approaching
and are eager to investigate.

Ben Taylor