Poetry Sunday #4- Fish in the Drain

“It’s not a tadpole!”

That was his first thought

As he scooped up the raindrop-shaped silhouette

Amid water, soil and algae

 

Water trickled away

From the seams of his fingers

An almighty leap

Propelled the pea-sized body onto the concrete floor

 

The silvery face

Gleamed in the afternoon sun

But why would anyone notice it

In a glasshouse full of giant plants?

 

After several attempts

He wedged the fish between his fingers

And released it one foot ahead

Into the now soapy water

 

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