The Threat
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The crab goes scrabbling past small shells but halts
In sidewise walk. He stops because he comes
Upon a footprint. Crabby, side-ways waltz
Goes frozen. It’s as if the warning drums
Of nature have been planted near his heart.
He comes to total hitch. How can he know
That shape is full of dread? How can he start
Again his scurrying above ebb’s flow?
He hesitates. He wavers. Feelers taste
The air around his alien eyes. His claws
Are turned to gingerness’s fear and placed
In caution, citing nature’s nasty laws.
How can he possibly know human ill
And hunting boys who search for killing thrill?
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