The Ball of Legs

illustration - rowboat

Some new tracks in the sand by Potter’s Mount,
Four toes, then five, then six, then back to four,
Each alternating step, a different count,
They end under the lifeguards’ boat – no more.

I turn to scan the shore; I am alone,
But curious – my hidden quarry begs.
I overturn the boat. There, lying prone,
No human thing – a ball of twenty legs.

It scurries quickly past me to the dunes.
Then diving from the sky a demon bird,
Which plucks it, flies with it across the moon,
Those whirring legs – the loudest scream I’ve heard.

I contemplate this natural mystery
Under the boat – lest more foul birds seek me.

from The Surreal Sonnets Series…

  1. The Dreaming Chest
  2. Icelus Calling
  3. Cracks in the Walls

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