Sunday, April 26, 2015
Knife-dancing angels playfully fight.
Snails move slow and often stop.
Guppies gaze through watery windows
Hung with curtains of swirling light.
Fish hear secrets and never tell.
Most sleep and eat and keep in pairs.
They listen to me in perfect silence:
I should listen half as well.
I study my fish and they study me,
Our worlds bridged by heavy glass.
But I am dry and far too heavy;
I clomp to the kitchen gracelessly.
At times my land life seems out of whack:
No fins, no gills, with unwebbed feet.
Life on earth began in the water—
Today I swear I’d gladly go back.
by Ralph Fletcher
Posted by Ralph Fletcher at 11:49 AM