What a busy little fellow 

Rolling backward the latest gathered stone

Drowning it in the dam murky waters

Burying it with great diligence 

Piling generous amount of mud on top

Suddenly missing it

Searching for it under water

Digging it with frenzy from its watery grave

Licking it clean with great delight

Comma tail in the air wagging a frenetic tempo

It's time to start the game all over again

What a busy little fellow

Until a sinuous black tiger leach appears

Time to go home and rest

Why, oh why do happy moments have to end?

Lucette C. Bailliet

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