Threat to Children

The snake is in the murky water. Its silvery, twisting form juts out of the black. It veers over the rim, searching for prey...any prey.

Your children have run to the riverbank.

Will it pounce,
While your head is turned,
And your lips flap?

Will it pounce,
While your biceps are exposed,
And your eyes wander?

Its neck is craned, and I'd shout in warning.

But my lips are sealed,
With fear.