For Sharky

I miss Sharky.
I keep looking for him
In the hole of his favorite rock.
His hidey-hole.
Among the rocks and plants,
Eating algae,
Chasing Goldie, my goldfish,
All over the tank.
His small body sleek and black.
His tail and fins bright red.
Except for color, a miniature
Of those great, scary saltwater beasts.

But then one day,
Without any warning,
I found him floating,
His body stiff, pale.
No tell-tale sign to shed some light
On how Sharky met his end.

How do I mourn a fish?
They are not warm and fluffy
Like a dog or a cat.
You can’t cuddle with one
On a couch.
It won’t sleep at the
Foot of the bed.
Most people will just
Flush it down the toilet,
Or toss its carcass
In the trash.
But how could I do this to Sharky?
I don’t care that he was
Just a fish.
So I took him out to the garden,
Dug a hole under the tomato plant.
You may be resting in dirt on this world,
But you’re happily
Hanging out in your new hidey-hole

In the next.
So long Sharky.
I’m going to miss you.

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