Rat Walk

By: Finnley Kneller

 

Air fills with rustling and chirps,

On a November eleventh rat walk.

A bright moon waves over orange and orange,

The broken yield littering the way to the horizon.

And the couple in the field sneer at his silhouette on the hill,

With his invisible friends, talking into the glow,

Until a shrill alarm sounds then abruptly ends,

In a sleek, dripping body emerging from the stream.

 

Silk bodies work down through the reeds,

Stepping back from the yellow and yellow.

And their pelts shine, darkened with frozen shiver,

Bouncing shallow silver from the gentle ebb,

As they keep quick step, marching to their silent song.

Drowning on Alexander’s command, they gorge.

Each droplet choking, filling, numbing,

Leaving little bodies scattered on the bank.