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The sea was quiet
Lashing, even, lapping
waves made songs
But of course that was
heard from the sand
Down below
Only the faint whale
echoes were heard
All we ever gleaned
besides that was silence
I used to hang
Out where the bottom
is inches away
Just after the waves
wash the beach
For that would be
The closest point at
which I felt
The land vibes
And sometimes I could
almost hear things
I first saw her
Coasting over the swell
and foam
But she wasn’t
like the other birds
She seemed to be
Curious about the underneath
of the sea
For she stayed low just
looking not fishing
Just like myself
Trying to find that
puzzle piece
Of a place that I had
never known
Surely we two
Would have so much to
talk about
Trading stories and
smashing misconceptions
I’m sure she wouldn’t
Think me strange if
I asked her
To give me her wings
for a day
Fins of mine
Would be glad to keep
her wet
Me soaring overhead
and more
And then we both
Could reflect together
for hours
Clarifying and sharing
what the locals know
Unfortunately
We will never meet each
other
I’ll never know
if she was really a “she”
Held captive
By my fins and by my
gills and diet
And she by her lungs
and feathers
Worlds apart
We will die from here
never understanding
What it’s like
out there at all
And then I thought
Does being where I am
most often
Really make me a “fish”?
And likewise
Do her usual tendencies
Really put her at “bird”?
Let’s suppose
That we could actually
realize
Our daring rendezvous
for trade
Suppose we did
Trade our means for
locomotion
For a day but keep our
torsos?
Then I would be
A bird for a day with
scales
But only if I were flying
Were I swimming
I would that day be,
for sure
The rarest birdfish.
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