The shore path narrowed here,
attracting few to this place
and offering questionable views
from a boggy, weedy expanse.
Dark water seemed hopelessly so
as darkness spilled into the pond,
seeping from fetid muck and
defying the sun’s best efforts.
Swans and ducks declined
to frequent this dismal cove,
keeping to more hospitable
areas just nearby.
Didn’t those trees know better
than to attempt a foothold
in such a spot? But of course,
escape was not possible.
And the occasional passerby,
pursuing exploration, would suffer
wetted shoes which, unattended,
might soon incline to malodor.
Phil Huffy is a busy poet with dozens of placements in the last few years. His new collection of children’s poetry, Magic Words, is available from Amazon, soon to be joined by an audio version.