3 fish last nite, now there's 1
They're so fragile
these 3 fish in a too-large
tank whom I've not bothered
to name as they're not mine. I'm just
the fish-sitter; this person that feeds and change water
when necessary. I doubt they're aware of my existence or
bothered to know who'd dropped them food from the sky?
Why should they - I don't ask
who is the farmer who grew my food or even why
God created so much so that
I should live.
(3 Dec 2007)
these 3 fish in a too-large
tank whom I've not bothered
to name as they're not mine. I'm just
the fish-sitter; this person that feeds and change water
when necessary. I doubt they're aware of my existence or
bothered to know who'd dropped them food from the sky?
Why should they - I don't ask
who is the farmer who grew my food or even why
God created so much so that
I should live.
(3 Dec 2007)
Labels: poetry
posted by Medusa aka expiringpoet at 9:48 AM
1 Comments:
Fishes are too different from us, somehow I get the feeling we will never be able to connect with them as much we connect with dogs and cats. God is a relation that is possibly even further away than between Man and Fish.
On a side note: from my experience, fishes become aware of people after a while. Back in Poly when we had to maintain a tank of fish for our experiments, we noticed after a week or two that the fishes got really excited when we entered the room. They would press themselves against the glass and swim to the surface eagerly expecting food.
- Liz
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