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A Brisling (King Oscar sardines)

I opened a tin of sardines in olive oil for supper
Headless and nicely packed, except for one
that had a head and was alive.
I put the live one in a glass jar; the others looked
so dead I could not eat them, put the tin back 
into the fridge
My little King Oscar sardine grew and was too
big for a jar, I had fed it bread crumbs,
 real home
baked with butter.
Suddenly, there were many cats in the yard the adventurous cats  tried to find an open window
I took my sardine to an empty lake.
the lake had once been full of bluegill, but overfished
to extinction, I sat my sardine free to feed on rotten
vegetations
I don't know how fish procreate, but soon there were
too many of them, a school of silvery beings
swimming around except for one going the opposite way
Bonanza!
Grilled sardines and red wine, people rejoiced, thought
this was going to last forever until there were non
except for my sardine, now so big it scared cats
when it saw me, it was so happy, jumped out of the water
caught by a passing eagle
Empty lake, a dead eye in the wilderness, tells no story

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