I watched the black crab crawl across the floor,
towards my feet, which I lifted
when it was almost near.
It gave me a startled look, its large claws
moving slothfully.
I sipped from my coffee mug,
watching it over the rim.
My friend gave a deep rumbling laugh
upon seeing it, his voice strangely nervous.
It moved to a dry corner, its shell
almost dry and covered in dust.
I bit into my biscuit.
A concert was just across the road,
its music lively and recognisable.
I almost forgot the crab.
All of a sudden, it scurried to the road
and hid at a plant pot.
We turned our attention to the crab again.
It wanted to cross over.
Twice over it crept away but backed off in horror
when passers-by were drawing near.
As I stared at it I felt my throat go dry.
My friend and I were looking
at it nervously as it hung about
on the road.
Then it was all over in the blink of an eye.
We heard a loud crunchy sound
from the road and our hearts
as a tyre of a passing taxi
crushed it unknowingly, smoothly.
My friend said, ‘It’s got a new life.
It must be thankful to the taxi.
That life was boring.’ I nodded
as I hounded the place where he was coming from.
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