Crawfish Days
There’s something about crawfish chimneys
That brings back to my mind
Springs and summers after raining
When water and clay are combined
The structures are engineering wonders
With some as impressive as webs
Though the spider’s is for capture
And the chimney is for hiding instead
The chimney is a story high
When measured with a crawfish tape
And they become just like bricks
The longer in the sun that they bake
I must say I’ve toppled one over
And have returned to see it rebuilt
But the destruction was when I was bolder
And a member of a mischief boy guild
This same boy inserted his hand
Into a chimney hole after rain
Unworried about sharp pincher hands
And from bragging somehow refrained