Goldfish In The Window

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Just a wee poem of isolation.

My castle too small, seeing nothing but wall
A gold filled chest, that has no value at all
Safely surrounded by glass, in a new home
From bottom window pane, I roam

I am just a wee goldfish trying to befriend a tree
Does it ignore me, or is it unable to see?
Refraction in beween what seems distant
A reflection, practically non-existant

What is it, that I see in this near by tree?
Haunting, yet seems so friendly to me
Taunting me to come out and play
The tree's playful curiosities that stay

A greedy squirrel, cantankerous crows, and faerie
A beak tapping on glass, or the clawing of a moggy
This tree's offspring are at times, a bit rude
Not so playful, I fear some day they may intrude

Perhaps it dare not coax me,  from disinterest in play
Its branches reaching out, not to hug but to push away
Its prickly branches that may pierce my flesh
Its unwillingness to see me die, gasping for breath

From sapling to yearling, now grown a bit old
Outlasting time's scars, yet beautiful and so bold
Autumn has stripped it bare, for the setting cold
Written on every fallen leaf, a story told

Frozen by winter's frost
Not so completely lost
At least it's seen by me
Indirectly each other's company

My imagination is all I have to share
Wondering how a tree may fair
Complicating simplicity is what I do
So I keep quiet, in hopes it will pull through

 


Submitted: April 04, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Sluggy. All rights reserved.

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