There was prompt at dVerse poets earlier this week that asked to use the word “crab”. Now I completely blew by the 44 word call of a dVerse Quadrille but …
Crab
I am not a jazzy Crawdad, or a belly Catfish bottom feed or a Flounder floundering for hope or a Pike on a stick, or a Cod (or a cad, sounds close – I’ve been that) or a Sole spelled wrongly for what I have in mind, or a Salmon sidestep barreling swim hope around bears downstream.
I am no fish
I am not multiplied with magical wine and claimed anything more than I am.
I am a crab, I scurry hard shell and do crab sidestep instead, with purpose, wishing nothing more than to slide sideways forward away from you and hold onto what I can with a muscle armed looking claw.
Leave me to my beach and I will leave you to your better than crabs but know …
I will never be crab so much as to dig myself into sand.
No, I will that scurry out of a hole, before the tide and I will grab
your finger
and never let go, as I am not one to petted.
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