I won a goldfish at the county fair.
Poor goldfish — seeing that ping-pong
ball looming toward his home like Apophis.
His golden body glistened in the sunlight
as he swam in a bowl won from the dime pitch.
With the pride and confidence of any fish parent,
I changed his water at the sink — and watched
in horror as his slick orange body
slid from the bowl and down the drain.
The horror! The absolute tragedy!
Propelled by child’s logic, I fled
the house and ran down to the creek bank
to tell my brother and neighbor what happened
and asked if they saw Henry swim out of the pipe.
My brother deciphered my mucoid blubbering,
then promptly laughed at me.
Weeks later, our neighbor told me,
whilst fishing, he saw a big goldfish
swimming around and looking happy.
It took me a few years to realize
the truth, but when I did, I didn’t
appreciate it any less.
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Cari R Esta 