Fish Tales

The old cat fish was alone in the pond, bored

Longing for the canoodling hands of the fisherman

The mud had gone so much thicker in the Summer

That his thoughts dried up with the aging scales

Spring frogs never came to spawn in the fresh rain

Decaying leaves just chirped in the winds of Autumn

When pushing his big ugly head through the darkness

“If I were an eel, with a slimy tiny head

Life would be much easier… just a thought.”

Then he saw the new-comer to the pool

The pretty  long whiskers dancing,

 Yellow shining underbelly with flowing fins

The gills moving in synchrony to his breath

The glaring blue eyes next to him, thawing

The ice of his solitude, a path paved with dreams

Of the nurturing, the meaning of his life

She is so beautiful…

Then he felt his head trapped in the muddy hands

The outside air, the noise of wind, suffocating

The sunlight burning his eyes and a blow on the head…