Something For Beau
"Don't you get tired of swimming?"
I ask. "What's 'Swimming.'
and why don't you do it?" he
replies. I say, "Well,
they blew it: I have no fin
to propel in
He circles the rim of
his big glass bowl. He's
gorgeous, he's aqua and gold,
traces of bronze, bright blue
as the sea. A half-moon,
double tail male, totally
free. A loner, like me.
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