At The Marsh Poem by Gert Strydom

African coots and wild geese drift past
the bulrushes and bushes of reeds
and deeper in the marsh
there is something that comes alive.

As a small child I am at the tributary
and see something strange coming out of the water
and suddenly a monitor appears
that astounds me with its swishing tail

before it gets on its hind legs and touches the air with its tongue
and to me it looks like a crocodile
while another swims around in the stream
and in fright I want to yell and yell.