Defense Mechanism

doing a series of nature poems

 A gust catches the sand

as white as snow

A layer catches flight

revealing dark toes.

 

So long have I crouched here

with eyes staring down

that the beach has devoured my feet

inches into its ground.

 

I gaze at the red contrasting

from the stretching white

My eyes are closed, hands folded-

position seems only right.

 

Claws for hands; scaly skin;

the size of my palm

Under my breath a prayer said

and a scripture from Psalm.

 

Lying on his back, as still as a rock

his death I mourn

Whispered words, fingers clasped

my expression forlorn.

 

But the sun suddenly brightens,

a gust sweeps the bay.

The rigor mortis body is flipped,

and he scuttles away.