A Swamp

There is a repulsive beauty
In the thick green waters of a swamp,
Where turtles glide
And pull themselves upon a log and lie
In slimy languor
In the humid sultry heat.

The green flecked snakes
Move noiselessly along while hunting
Brilliant bugs
And gray mosquitoes bred in stench and bogs.
The frogs lie quietly
Upon a cold slick stone and wait for night
When each kind gives himself to feed another.