Crab Convoy
Softer than light
soldier crabs navigate an early world.
From their drilled trenches they hover;
transparent bodies, miniature helicopters
airing a blue line across mud flats,
portable radio antennas
attuned to the sea’s bandwidth.
A lone soldier divides from the troops,
gathers in her sand rosette,
latches down.
Missiles of bird-song blast overhead;
sounds of the enemy,
digging.
This is a poem from my soon to be published collection "Country Girl" - but may not make it in.
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