Slug Bait

Nature

Winter has come and gone

and I watch the sun through

pixelated eyes.

Gliding on mildew and

mite-pungent litter, I head for

The Old Mill Pond.

I stop to linger in the shade

of mushroom caps and spiral

fronds, watching the children

collect tadpoles at the

pond's edge.

The caps rain spores that stick and

spoil my ooze. Ah, a toxicity that

bloodworms and mephitic termites

find unpalatable.

Thus, I am free to sip the sugary

filaments that bristle on aphids

around me.

Reviews

[Lara]

You have a knack for the insinuation of macabre, Perry.
Such interesting reading.

I particularly like this piece, "slug bait".
It's imagery and pacing brings me to an immediacy of the writers clime.
The last stanza is very well done, me thinks.