Poems & Musings,  Writing

The Crocodile Year

A colossus in the currents

With claws drifting serenely down

And green-gold eyes

Seeing, but not revealing.

Try explaining to that grinning mouth

The merits of followers, likes on selfies,

And checking “just one more” work email.

We rush manically, frantically,

As though we’re expected at our funerals

Ten full years before the Reaper calls.

Planned days laid out like rows of teeth,

Waiting to draw blood if you deviate.

I’d prefer to be like one of them,

Contemplation in water, clarity on land,

Wrapped in the resting power of my being,

My existence enough to command respect,

Knowing when needed,

One strike will do.

2 Comments

  • Lyris

    Now Damien, have u observed like Jane Austin the croc in the wild?… I would think crocs got survival DOOOOWN don’t bore them!! *rolling eyes loudly but in good humor*

    I mean they could hunt better than cats/cat n mouse… They could see if a croc can mate with an alligator, orrrr even bring gifts to one born from egg but by biological mother!!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.