Today I bought
a goldfish
to replace the one
we buried sweetly
last week
in a small wood
near the school.
He’s a big little fish,
though, about
twice the size
of the two survivors
in the tank. He could
eat them. He could
starve them.
He butted
and rammed
the walls
of the bag
as I set it afloat.
When I returned
to release him,
he dove right down
to a dip in the gravel
and stayed there
for minutes.
I pressed
my fingertip
to the glass
and he flew!
The old fish
noticed his cut
through the water,
they knew
his distress
and waited
for him to slow.