Night is young
Much to find
As we seek the
Tide that hides

Tasty morsels
Deep within
Its bosom
Cloaked inside

Forks at ready
Aim is sure
Eyes too sharp
Light demure

Camouflage
Protects them all
Nature’s way
Avoid the fall

Stab them quickly
They lay still
Flounder now
Upon the grill

—Victoria Emmons © 2015