Ripples ran across the calm water
as the stone skipped on the surface,
I reached for another from the stack,
I felt the smooth texture, the rounded
edges. As I fiddled and fancied the stone,
I imagined the years it took to form such
a perfection, the interaction of nature and
time to give such a marvel, it was astounding,
A flock of ducks swam by, quacking,
With a split second dive, one snatched
a fish from the school swimming below,
The fish wiggled in attempt to free it self, to
survive the inescapable,
With gusto, the duck gulped down the poor fish,
choking momentarily as it made it past the throat,
I couldn’t help but feel sorry, then it dawned to me,
We are no different from the duck, only
We feast on the already deceased. So was
the tale of the fish,
A toad croaked from underneath, startling me,
I parted my legs to steal a peek,
Right there, was the ugliest toad I’d ever set eyes on,
Coincidentally, a fly buzzed by, in a flash, a sticky tongue
shot out and the fly was gone. The toad
hopped disappearing around the bushes. I was
left wondering. So was the tale of the fly,
Suddenly, I heard a distinct hiss and rattle, a chill ran down my
spine. I whirled around ferociously,
My gaze met tiny black eyes, forked tongue,
and pointed white fangs; yellow venom dripping,
A cobra ready to strike looked right into my eyes,
I was paralyzed, frozen. The stone I fancied was
still clasped in my hand,
A woodpecker that was making a fuss
Stopped, seemed like it could sense
the tension in the air. Squirrels stood on tree
branches to watch how events would unwind, squeaking,
The whistling of the leaves ceased. Everything
was dead still save my pounding heart, which I was afraid
would give way before I met my horrendous fate.
I was filled with dread, and I understood how the fish and fly
Felt.
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