Muskrats breed from muck
at the bottom of this pond.
Spontaneous generation
is no myth here.
Each year, I hunt and trap
them to extinction.
Each spring another head
parts water in a vee.
Tunnels riddle my shore,
erode my banks,
birth more rats.
Pondside paths
collapse into holes
deep dark wombs
that endanger my peace
of mind, my neatly
laid plans. The dream
that is my pond
descends into twilight
and rats emerge at dawn,
watching and waiting
for my time to pass.
Richard Dinges, Jr. lives and works by a pond among trees and grassland, along with his wife, two dogs, three cats, and ten chickens. SBLAAM, Roanoke Review, Home Planet News, and The Journal most recently accepted his poems for their publications.