Poems

Moving

 

damfishersThe spoonbill were running at low water dam,
But the shirtless and shifty left little room
To cast a line. We took the advice
Of the bait shop clerk and a one-legged war veteran
On a scooter and headed across corps land
To a sand bass creek. Crossing a low area,
The truck sank into the mud, and you shifted
Fast into reverse, as the sewage smell
Of the water swirled up around us. I prepared
To swim out of it, to have my sandals sucked away,
Cottonmouths swarming my ankles. I expect
So much from the world, so much from you,
From life. Everything is right here, so close
Like you, and everything is moving away.

–Shaun Perkins

1 thought on “Moving”

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