Morning Grief

Sheba sat upon a leaf. There began my morning grief. For when I checked on him today he hadn't moved since yesterday. I shook the plant. His body bobbed. Panic set in as my heart sobbed. I bit my lip. I hid my pain. Now, I must flush him down the drain. Not wanting to react too soon, I poked him with a metal spoon. Not a fin twitched; a second poke. Alas! Sheba abruptly woke. He darted off in a hurried swim. Then glared at me for poking him. I screamed in shock, "I thought you were dead! You stupid fish! Go back to bed!" And as I sighed with great relief, Sheba returned to his favorite leaf.