She feels uncomfortable
keeping fish.

Forever confined
to a tank
of small proportions,
same scenery, same rocks,
same neighbors, crowded,
sameness without end. Until
fish babies are born,
and consumed, by bigger fish,
fleeing nowhere,
round and around,
no chance to hide
and grow into the bigger fish
that eat the smaller.
Sucked into gaping mouths,
alive, for a short while,
confined again
and gasping for breath,
dying in confusion,
small fish soul,
never knowing
ocean freedom.

She lives in a fish tank,
confined,
and gasping
for life, sometimes
she wishes
a big fish
would swallow her,
liberating her small soul
into the ocean
of freedom.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 8/16/02