poem of mine

Floating Flowers

We talk about water and the way it gets you to want to dine, the fish, those are food The fishes, those are learning to breathe air, giant lips that gulp at each bulge of dark water, having no sense of death-

Not yet, they float out on their sides past an inlet our eyes past a ship, then back to our own business.

The planet is melting, this

holds no fear for some

But in others changed their souls

A puzzle of crossed words punishment and broken promises this earth, little by little

Since the beginning