Desperately seeking
Sturgeon at Sturgeon Point
I ponder the shoreline
Remembering past times
Of sturgeon piled high
Like cordwood
Thousands at a time
It's hard to fathom
But it's true
There must be some left
I mutter to myself
As I gather my supplies
And prepare my surprise
I have cheeseburgers and fries
Garden muck and dead flies
Seeds, indian beads, and dried reeds
Whipped cream, sour cream, and hot steam
I'm making a cake
A sturgeon surprise cake
All the things that a sturgeon must love
All in one sparkling cake
I labor all day
At my oven made of clay
Raising my cakely layers
Frosting it all my way
During different parts
Of assembling my recipe
I've attracted all manner of creatures
Crayfish and snails have come to see
Gulls and cormorants tried to scavenge
Flies, mosquitoes, and beetles
Perch, smelt, and salmon
They've all come to investigate
The unusual sights and smells
My sturgeon surprise cake now done
I kindle a fire in the setting sun
I lay the cake upon the shore
And settle in to wait an hour or more
This king of fish must know I'm here
He must know this is for him
Unless there are none left
Leaving this area ironically named
Yet bereft
I pass the time reading a book
And shooing away other critters
Starting to lose hope
Eyes feeling heavy and worse
With the moon high in the sky
The waves only a gentle lapping
Suddenly an ancient armored head breaks the water
Old eyes beholding me napping
When I awake
Nowhere to be found is my cake
In it's place is an old shell
A gift from Mishe-Nahme
Who knows to give
Every time he does take
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