In the soft summer afternoon,
Behind the swaying trees, brought by the caressing wind,
Lay hidden, a swamp.
A web of muck and mires,
Teeming with thousands of primitive creatures,
Swimming through a stretch of silk,
Through the endless swirling colors of daylight hitting water.
A few people observe in awe from above the surface.
They leave, and all is calm, except for the mosquitoes
shattering the still air.
And the snakes combing the surface of the filmy water.
A small child, innocent except in the dangerous act of
Wanders into swarming masses of the swamp water.
The child is being absorbed by the inky black ooze
That quickly layers around the little pink body.
Disturbing the creatures the inhabit the underwater world.
Legions of the animals curl and tickle the soft belly of the child,
Seducing the hapless thing deeper into the sinister pools.
Enveloping the child in a black swirling tomb.
The poor toddler is knocked senseless by the clamoring weeds
Dragging the child under the murky depths,
Softly, hundreds of tiny animals curl around the
Flowing in openings, swarming out of ears,
The shifting waters have calmed the child's fears,
And have brought the curious animal to a world
Purifying layers, like a black box of nothingness