What prehistoric beast are you pretending to be?
Sat there in your perfect isolation amongst the bull rush
and sodden earth.
The sight of your eye - a blink - belies your cool look;
is it me you're looking at with that slight
nod of head; side to side, or some
unsuspecting perch, roach or stickleback
taking a flight of fancy, dancing, surfacing;
a flash of silver from where I'm sitting
into a black bottomless bath where
everything, including the kitchen sink
lies motionless, extinct.
Until the dog is on you; a charge, a ...