Black Water Mist

Black water mist tiptoes across the water
An assassin for fisherman
Despite the fear of blindness
The real terror is seeing the eyes of the mist itself

Water is motionless even in the wind
The color of an oil spill
Hidden underneath are the inaudible sounds of screaming
As the mist’s tears eat away the limbs of skinny-dippers

Winter freezes over the water
But one with a clumsy foot
Will spring the icy trapdoor
For the water to feed

Sinking rafts and drowning cries
The mist covers the ears and eyes of spectators
As the water eats the shrinking lungs of its prey
So is the tale of the Black Water Mist.