Peering out over the valley,
Near the Prairie of the Dog,
The kids pick crawfish crawling
At the bottom of the river.
One day they’ll get the itch
To pack their non-waterproof boots
And shiny rings
Headed for flashy lights
And “bigger” things.

Tomorrow, though,
They’ll pack beaten bags
In haste
Headed for the prairie
To pick on crawfish once again.