The Lonely Anemone
It wondered why the others stayed so far away
Why it was always it and itself and no-one else
Sitting at right angles to all the others
Their tentacles wafting and touching and dancing
Whilst it sat alone in the cold currents
Filled with the dregs they had left from feastings
And the shit they had shed and detritus from above
It wept for it’s solitude, did the lonely anemone?
What had it done wrong? Did it look wrong?
Eventually it’s gaze of sense turned to beyond
Out of the water and wall it tethered itself too
And there was a lens, a single eye
Staring and sharing and sad, an ache of the one
Alone and small in a tank to be peered at
Behind the lens were two eyes and brine jewels
Dripped, the anemone knew the empty ache
That recognition made the ache slow and dull
And as they parted creatures from different domains
Each knew the other and that they were not the only one
Posted: Monday, December 21st, 2020 @ 10:54 pm
Categories: Poems.
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