By Margaret Jane Jones
A fathom deep in still waters
Along the coast of sun-kissed bay,
Then up a lazy water way,
There slips a shadow long and gray.
Like a phantom it dips and glides
In silent ease, and then it slides
With flippered thrust up-up to where
It snuffles in a breath of air.
An egg-shaped head and face bob out,
Wet and wrinkled with whiskered snout
And hint of smile, though somewhat odd,
It winks an eye and seems to nod.
Hooray, Harrah, Halloo! I say.
Good fortune shines on us today,
For we’re the ones who get to see
The shy, elusive Manatee.
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