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The water was perfection.
The temperature just right.
But sadly he’d been neglected.
He’s not swimming well tonight.
He lies upon his side.
Eyes glassy and not bright.
I wish I could have lied.
Joey’s such a tiny mite.
I bend down to his level.
Hold his gaze with mine.
For his little fish named, Devil,
Is no longer feeling fine.
“What do we do?” He asks me.
My teeth reach for my lip.
I put him on my knee,
Transfer him to my hip.
“We can not bring him back,”
That is what I say.
My words, they sound so black.
Oh, what an awful day.
And so we move our friend,
Tiny fingers in my hand.
I know someday he’ll mend.
Though tonight is rather bland.
We stand here together.
He floats in another bowl.
My hand is like a feather
As swirling waters flow.
“Oh look Mom he is moving
In circles don’t you see
He just wanted to go swimming
In another deep blue sea ”
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