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Ode to Rumble Too I don't know how he is keeping alive. It bothers me greatly that dying is so hard-- I wish I could remember if birth, too, were that difficult...
he knew this all along, of course. As a warrior fish It is one thing he knows well. In the early morning it was obvious what was happening as I lowered his water level to about 4 inches and draped his plant, like a fallen tree over his rock... He hangs himself in the leaves his nose close to the air that keeps him living. of confrontation, he can and does fight on. I haven't the heart to feed the other fish while he languishes. I know in my heart the odds are against him--- there is too much internal damage for him to be allowed to win... As the daylight arrives, I wonder if fishes at the brink of darkness long for the joy of the first bird singing morning in from the edges of night
© May 2003 |