you were the monarch of Coltsford Mill
a giant among minnows
the true lord of alder and willow.
Made of cartilage and muscle
you loomed over your retinue
through your lonely kingdom of mud –
in the season of mayfly and swallow.
Testing your royal blood and sinew
you flashed to air like a silver lance
in the last battle that you fought.
The wedding guests glimpsed you.
They admired your aqueous existence
until the day that you were caught.
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