Scorpion Poem by Charl JF Cilliers
Scorpion
At the end of the thin, taut
line of shadow lies the motile hook
hissing across the desert sand
from shade of stone
and scrub of thorn.
Then the thin, taut line
is reeled back in
to scrub of thorn
and shade of stone,
and the hook has impaled
a briefly frenetic centipede.
The hard husk gripped by tiny claws,
the gluttonous chelicerae
sip the softer body parts
as they sluggishly liquefy.
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7/28/2025 1:21:12 AM # 1.0.0
