cold,
icy,
mountain creek,
gurgling, bubbling, bouncing along,
in early spring,
gives home to crawdads,
and salamander-
the first is searched for,
the other shunned,
as I sit,
crouched low on my heels
small laurel twig in hand,
lifting gently,
lose stones,
disturbed bottom
swirls away,
clearing,
'til I find my prize.
prodding slightly,
not in hurting manner,
crawdads
'on guard'
with pinchers raised,
jump backward,
again,
again,
becoming tired sooner than I,
finding sanctuary,
deep,
deep,
under a larger rock,
leaving me,
with a childish wisdom-
knowing,
there's something,
greater
than I.
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Comments: 6
Virginia - I love the style you've used and your fitly chosen words really take the reader through this sweet childlike experience with excellent sound words too. Lovely ending!
(A 10+)