morning on the bayou

the deck sits high lilting back and forth above the deceptively deep muddy brown water

spanish moss hangs in brown clumps down towards the bobbing heads of turtles

i seek the tell tale lumpy log like shape of gators lounging among the currents below

a boat comes flying towards my perch sending the entire placid surface to chaos of rolling waves

an odd group flies above my head along the winding hazel waterway with an evil glare

two cranes between two crows fly low this feathered traveling group of dignitaries lazily soar past

morning on the bayou with jazz in my ears the stranger in the strangest mercurial state

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