Inside, it swims—
this goldfish of light
within a translucent bowl,
its fragile curve
an illusion of barriers
to the infinite ocean.
I watch thoughts sink deep,
rusted anchor descending,
planting themselves near
the hot pink coral castle.
Small fry dart and swirl,
sucking algae, sifting muck,
oblivious to the sublime:
the goldfish,
weightless,
floating to the surface.
— © Rick Baldwin
