The Fish

There’s a fish in my pond

Thinks I don’t see him, but I do
There he will stay through winter
Hiding within sour leaves
That fell like rain
In the autumn breezes
And he is content
In a mantle of humus
To wrap him warm

There’s a fish in my pond

Thinks I don’t see him, but I do
There he will stay through winter
Watches water freeze above
Into silvered stained glass
Held in green leaded frame
And he is content
To endure till spring
Softer than a whispered lie

There’s a fish in my pond

Thinks I don’t see him, but I do
There he will stay through winter
And his heart beats slowly
In time to the heron’s wings
A beat to descend and muffle
Orange eyes of desire, espy him
And he is not content
For he lies within a watery grave