Hyacinth

Upon the blackwater lies a blanket
purple flash as far as the eye can see
bright star-robes of the Atchafalaya
there is no lady half as wild as she.

I’ve found sinking houses in her dark deep
falling from the tall pylons to their rest
around them cypress giants deeply sleep
we are the young they whisper of in jest.

livewater lizards lazily patrol
conductors of the bullfrog bugle-band
should one of them arrest you they will roll
with your lifeblood they gladly soak the land

the heron is the swordsman of Lake Dauterive
he fences underwater for his fare
grace that causes dancers to sorely grieve
blue-winged liftoff is his dance into the air

the crawfish rule underwater regions  
their Congress the dialogue of spiders
wearing their knight’s armor they are legion
their burrows do make them expert hiders

my favorite creature is the woody drake
his raiment clearly marks him as a fop
his legend surely names him as a rake
he struts about as his bright colors pop

I love the Lady Atchafalaya
she has my heart clenched in her muddy claws
in the land of spicy jambalaya
she has no regard for normal man-laws.

how long will we enjoy her existence?
 how will we then replace her when she’s gone?
the oil men rape her with no resistance
Cajun pride they can purchase with a song