Out behind the Ponderosa,
around the corner from Burger King,
behind the Sleep Inn parking lot
adjectent to Route 17 South
sits a little pond,
a diamond drop
surrounded by the concrete of Interstate 95,
a dot on Americas moving black top map.

My golder retriever, Buddy, needed to stretch
and relieve himself
so we strolled to the waters edge.
Buddy sniffed.
I surveyed
tires, a gas can, the culvert, a plastic gallon jug
that, somehow found its way there, resting peacefully
on the shore line, half filled with mud.

Suddenly,
came a crashing, rumbling, scraping
through the brush and over the dirt path.

From some hidden hovel charged
an angry anchorite,
a solitary beaver who splashed into the pond
in a great huff,
slapped his flat-tailed-warning and submerged,
all in three seconds-
three seconds that I still doubt happened.

Beneath a placid Virginian urban pond
lurks a kamakazi, Confederate beaver,
waveing his Stars and Bars battle banner,
declaring “Rebellion!!!”
and his will to “Rise Again!!!”.

Simmers a sulking Rebel waiting to strike.

We’re never as far away
from trouble
as we think,
so beware!

That Jeffersonian Beaver can smell
a damn yankee Hamiltonian stink
from miles away.
He may retreat,
He may surrender,
but forget?
‘NEVER!!!”