Crimson eyes
A low cry
A song
Expecting nothing
Pushing against
The tide
Digging into
The mud
Fighting the pull of the wave
As the tide retreats.
He honors life
I chase the people away.
Crimson eyes
Watch me.
He's hurt.
I call
The police.
The police come and call
The wildlife guy
In Jacksonville.
It's his thing,
They tell me.
He'll come.
And would you give me
Your name address date of birth
And phone number
Even though it's on my phone
For the report.

One Single Impression