High and dry

by joetwo

Left to dry out in the sun

A lone dead fish

Long since suffocated in the dry air

Its body slowly shrinking

Losing fluid, turning to dust


What an ignoble end

Formerly master of its aquatic realm

Happily flying through the fluid medium

Now cast into the alien dry

With no moist succour for its gills

Nothing for fins to push against


Nothing to do but to sit and wait

For fortune to play out

Either in the form of death

By drowning or predation

Maybe by stroke of luck

The gods of water will send a new wave and return it to its home


But for this little fish it was not to be

It lies there dead, eyes sunken in, losing lustre

Beginning the slow spiral of decay

That is how it is with life

Life is simple and happy while in the stream

But to be cast off, to end on the banks, in the dry

Away from its waters and its support

There is little to do but wait and hope

    That the stream will rise up again

To return you to its supporting flow.