A boat is docked
but has never been anywhere
to speak of.
The inside of the restaurant
is decorated with animal skins,
a giant bee’s nest.
A muskrat threatens to go fishing
by the door.
He’s even got his pole out.
There are stirrings in the water,
Invisible life sucking at lighting
insects, moving in tiny circles
beneath the swirling murk.
There is a hidden life in the marsh
as we eat broiled fish and sip
sour mixes in mason jars.
More at https://jddehartfeaturepoems.blogspot.com and on Twitter @jd_dehart.
