Flying Fish
I HAVE lived in many half-worlds myself . . . and so I know you.
I leaned at a deck rail watching a monotonous sea, the same circling birds and the same plunge of furrows carved by the plowing keel.
I leaned so . . . and you fluttered struggling between two waves in the air now . . . and then under the water and out again . . . a fish . . . a bird . . . a fin thing . . . a wing thing.
Child of water, child of air, fin thing and wing thing . . . I have lived in many half-worlds myself . . . and so I know you.
I leaned at a deck rail watching a monotonous sea, the same circling birds and the same plunge of furrows carved by the plowing keel.
I leaned so . . . and you fluttered struggling between two waves in the air now . . . and then under the water and out again . . . a fish . . . a bird . . . a fin thing . . . a wing thing.
Child of water, child of air, fin thing and wing thing . . . I have lived in many half-worlds myself . . . and so I know you.
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