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A war, in word only.
The Everglades stretch on and on, not quite land
I’ve made a friend whose lineage goes back millions of years
Peering over the jetty, a black shape lies quietly, we’ve put aside our fears
I won’t go in the water, he won’t come on land
This is an arrangement we both understand
I’ve got my rod with fish attached
We’re having fun and know we’re being watched
I cast to him, he grabs it, we have a tug-o-war
He lets it go and disappears, he won’t go far
Again and again, we’re having fun. It’s a game we play
What else on such a fine day?
A cheeky blink, a crocodilian smile
Lots of camera clicking and clapping from a child
After a while we’ve each had enough
A wave with his tail and he disappears beneath the rough.
poem
by
Brian Roy Skyers
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