Lew Watts

Fledgling

 
As told by the late Dr Pete Williamson . . . 

Olduvai dusk 
the acacias ablaze 
with black bishops

I smell the smoke before I see her. It’s been a long day, my first at the dig, and not what I was expecting. Being dumped in a test pit two miles from the main site was not my idea of fun. Nor was being left alone when my local guide ran away before noon.

“How did it go?” she says, removing a small cigar from her mouth.

“Oh, fine,” I lie.

“Find anything dateable?”

The hammock creaks as she reaches out for the shard of broken shell.

“Only that, eh? Better luck tomorrow.” She flicks the piece away.

down to my singlet
a pied crow steals
a glance 

She settles back and closes her eyes. Her nose is regal, and her lips are perfect, as though they’ve never smiled.

“Oh, there is one thing,” I say, hoping to stay in her presence a little longer. “We had a snake in the pit.”

“What did it look like?”

“Small, sort of spotted beige and brown. Big eyes.”

“Carpet Viper,” she says, her eyes still closed. “Most deadly snake on earth. Get close?”

“Yeah, I was going to pick it up, ‘til Juma ran away. What happens if you get bitten?”

She turns her head and opens one eye. “First thing you do is walk five paces.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“Because you’ve broken the world record.”

gray dawn
wakened by the cry
of a go-away-bird

---

About the Author

Lew Watts is the haibun co-editor of Frogpond and the author of Tick-Tock (Snapshot Press, 2019), a haibun collection that received an Honorable Mention in the Haiku Society of America’s 2020 Merit Book Awards. His publications include the novel Marcel Malone and the poetry collection Lessons for Tangueros. He lives in Chicago.