The Mangrove Forests

Interfaced between the land and sea,
The tides that ebb and flow
Govern the ebb and flow of life
Where the mangrove forests grow,
Their twisted, tangled roots and trunks
Anchored to the mud below.

These aerial roots like coiling snakes
Prevent erosion of the coastline,
Trapping, recycling sediments and nutrients
Where rivers and seawaters combine,
Making an excellent marine breeding ground -
Nature’s nursery by design.

Here, in this sluggish, muddy world,
Pungent with unpleasant smell,
Hang ant-house plants on the mangrove stems,
Where sandflies and mosquitoes dwell
Along with wadding birds and small crabs
Encased in red and orange shells.

There is one of ancient order -
For he alone reigns supreme.
In the shadows of the night,
His sharp, red eyes gleam,
For the crocodile is the master
Of ambush and silent schemes.

Flying foxes by the thousands
Squabble in daytime roosting sites,
And when some loose their footing,
Crocodiles lie in wait for tasty bites.
When day is done and dusk arrives
They fly to their feeding grounds in hasty flight.

As the ocean meets the shore
In its never ending rhythm,
It quietly enters this muddy world,
Flowing through endless swamps and streams,
Fringed with the twisted, tangle of trunks and roots,
Topped with shiny, leafy crowns of green.

by Joyce Finocchiaro

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