left as mental seed in soil,
dispersed amongst algae pool
in light of moon, waves motion
of another catch to celebrate
once a year anniversary, it rises to rejoice
from tales told around fire
lit by old man who mumbled
about voodoo dolls and demons
it rises to be seen, shadow shaped
with teeth to sink sanity
after eyes bulge belief
bodies of kin, kept a secret
and buried with seed,
dispersed in depths
know it to be true, trust words spoken
by old man in rocking chair, chewing tobacco
and spitting it in can, carved from bone
of long tail told
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
always of course my pleasure 
Jeannie
