I am a small turtle on the side of the road.
To go left or right or across, I don't know.
While I think, the warm pavement brings peace to my mind.
I could just about stay here the rest of my life!
Tubby blues and flatties
Spar for crawlers and roe
Under a black moon.
A frenzied feeding;
Biting and thrashing to
Chance them a trophy meal.
Hungry losers fume,
Not knowing their luck;
An even tougher duel
Fat victors must now prove
Against rod and spool!
Against sand and wind!
Hidden in the morsel
Sweet, a treasure lingers;
Neither gold nor gem,
A stinger of steel;
Barbed and eager to snag
The mouth's fleshy corner.
The point finds its mark!
Bells rattle on shore!
Lifting the twitching rod
Confirms the prey to be
Alive and wrestling,
Desperate to flee!
But the hook lodges deep
And breaks not easily.
With rolls and lurches
The line is tangled
And twisted round the fish.
Its thrashing is no use!
The prey is captured!
Fairly weakened and
Wearied from skirmishing,
The hog is dragged shallow
Where wind finds wet gills.
Sudden comes the fire
That sparks dulled senses
And ignites a weak soul!
With one nasty kick
The line above snaps!
The cat flops down onto
Wet rocks and flails about.
Writhing is no use!
The fish is bested!
Trapped in a long black net
And doomed to be dinner
For the fisherman
Who uses good bait,
And follows the moon to
Tubby blues and flatties.