Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Everglades

There’s something due
hard to figure what

as this could be the last days
of pleading cries when

ragged ribbons of rivers
snake in the Everglades

liquid mirrors ever so slow
through browned-green sawgrass

Mangrove roots in mud, like stilts,
grow downward from branches

Gators stretch still
with turtles clamped in teeth;

yet, pythons wreak havoc
extorting terrorized tunes

boats rush to landing ramps with no regard
to otters, ospreys, spatterdock lilies

and nature distorts in human hands
losing proportion.

There’s something due
hard to figure what.


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Prompt: There’s something due