The dream

My son has loved and lost many fish over the years…A couple years ago he had a dream so beautiful and sad that he reported it to me the next morning through tears. In his dream he witnessed all the beloved fish he ever had swimming up to heaven. I wish I were an artist so I could paint the picture he described to me so vividly. I wrote this poem for him instead.

It happened only once, and never again
A vision so beauty laden
As to bring a young boy to his knees
A silvered ripple of gold, orange, red, and ebony:
Comets, black moors, celestials, veiltails,
Shubunkins, telescope eyes, ryukins, and pearl scales,
Swimming upstream through the cold night air
Their spellbinding, unrehearsed synchronicity
Shimmering and incandescent as they made their way
To some promised piscatorial paradise
Where the neglected and the overly loved
Find blessed peace and rest.

For my son

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