Fiddler Crabs
By Margaret Kay
All day he's
been standing by
his burrow, rubbing
his legs together
and ogling her
with stalked eyes.
But the amorous
female who followed
him in love
is now anxiously
maternal, her body
heavy with eggs.
So he scuds
off, rustling the
beach grass stems
and tunnels downward
through the sand
to sleep alone.
--------
Tuesday was mostly about post-trip chores for me. I folded laundry while Adam washed his, we had lunch together, we took covid tests (negative, yay!), Adam went to see my parents. When he came home, he folded his laundry and we went through some of his old books and things in the ongoing process of figuring out what he wanted to take with him, what he wants shipped later, and what he wants us to get rid of. In the late afternoon, we drove him and Pepper to the airport to send them back to Seattle, to our cats' relief.
We had sandwiches for dinner since we ate a lot over the trip. I watched "Waking Moments" with my Voyager group -- not one of the great episodes, but it was great to see everyone. Then Paul and I caught up on this week's Westworld, which was like a return to the first season thematically and so well done. Now we're catching up on What We Do in the Shadows from the past week, also having a good season though I'm worried about Guillermo and Nandor's epic love story I mean arrangement! Animals on Burton Island:
No comments:
Post a Comment