by Sherrie Gonzales-Kolb
It came up for air,
golden and white,
mottled, from underneath
a lily pad,
in that lush green
garden, where tree huggers
om in the lotus
position.
It came up for air,
its large mouth agape,
like those one observes
from a distance. The ones
whose impatient mouths
articulate from tiny brains.
