Tamarindo Mangrove

A ripple combs the murky inlet fringed with shaggy eyebrows. Foam swipes spider crabs from the mud and brushes rocky teeth, hungry for a soft, bare-skinned foot. Perfumed warnings, passed from leaf to leaf, flick the nose of an armed iguana. Spikes held high, he stands watch in the palm of a bow-legged tree.

Huu huu. Huu huu. Monkeys howl at fleshy intruders disguised in sunglasses and deodorant. Suddenly, a floating log blinks and swings her flirty hips. Trespassers beware.

–Terri Lynn Cummings