Death of a Goldfish
By Noo
- 740 reads
You feel the death of a fish;
In the pond,
The quiet time beforehand
The floating
And drifting
The skew-whiff swimming
The deadpan eyes
Beseeching now
Let nature take its course
Wait;
It’ll recover or it won’t
But we’re not used to waiting
We want resolution
Immediacy,
Die/Don’t die
Just be quick about it
You can’t rush a goldfish though
It’ll die when it’s ready
It’ll linger
Golden-sad
In the green water
It’ll lurk in the lilies
Until it’s time
An inconvenience,
A slow and public death.
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Comments
The smallness of death. like
The smallness of death. like how you get us to empathise with the fish, I guess we shall all be that fish one day.
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I like that you said you can
I like that you said you can't rush death, but we are not used to waiting. It's like, well if your gunna go, hurry up and get on with it - so true. I felt for the fish, too. And all of us.
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