Ghosts

The beavers' pond drained to mud puddles

(the new neighbor felt endangered)

that hot day churned clouds of flies -

What a grave scene!

But, then, one snow white ghost,

a second,

a third,

drifted

down

stilted

steps

stalking

not a lifeless mudflat

but a teeming bed of slippery green frogs, basso bullfrogs,

stump hopping brown toads,

silvery fish fry,

whirligigs,

dragonflies,

delicate

damselflies -

all very much alive

until . . .

dinner.