To Build Under Water

Right here,

I can stop, for a break;

In the daylight, I sit and wait.

On a bench, quiet and alone,

A cobbled path, is near its home.

When it rises, from the water,

To seek an aspen, as its fodder.

To chomp right through it, the little squatter,

And out a stump, but who did it bother?

Now the Woodpecker is out of a nest;

It had toiled, without a rest.

And the ants, they all protest;

The squirrels too, they do detest;

A simple beaver who stirred up a mess.

But would you come to leave such a clue?

Before the dam is fully true.

Would we meet right here,

in passing water?

Like the muskrat, mink, or the otter?