So captivating are the glittered skittering fish
the rippled impulses of swimming flashes
It makes no sense why, without our conscious wish,
we prefer to notice one floating, like cremation's ashes.
Nothing pretty about belly up suspension
No leaping splashes or shimmering scales
The gills don't quiver for our attention
And yet this we observe for minute details.
Unplanned momentum, followers each one
the glassed reflections taste nothing of sorrow
each fish chases circles until it is done
Without questing for yesterday or distant tomorrow.
Better to observe each fish in flight
And how each one's flecks capture the light.
by Christy Noel
3/21/04