Oriental Short-Clawed Otter
'Neath the tea-dark water
Darts from sunset to sunset
'Twixt the crumbling twain banks
The little ecru sentry.
Thro' his silty domain,
The hunting otter is no wastrel.
One silent thrash,
& the aureate fish is his.
Chinese fish stuck to his ungues,
The resonating thwack! 'gainst a flat rock
& the meat is his,
A hard-fought-for & sweet reward.
Little oriental otter,
Finishes & then resumes his hunt,
Swimming 'neath the tea-dark water,
The little shining koi soon to be his.