Poem on friendship and the adventures of two underwater buddies, a flounder and an eel. |
The eel and the flounder were the closest of friends on the artificial reef made of salvage and stone. They moved between the sandy spot the flounder liked best and a telephone booth where the eel could rest but they never left each other alone. One day in the sand when the flounder looked up she saw nothing but sea and had panicked in fear -- the eel had been taken -- or so she'd confirm as a soda can drifted to rest on the berm for she knew it meant people were near. She searched for her friend as a fisher above gave a squeal when the eel hit the deck of his boat. He spun for his gun and shot into the net -- as the magazine emptied, he filled with regret wondering now how the vessel would float. The ocean rushed up through a hole in the hull. With the fisher deterred, the eel slithered away. The man grabbed his gear and repaired the pontoon. His employment secure, he then grabbed his harpoon, resolute that he'd make the eel pay. The flounder was thrilled when the eel returned home but she saw the man nearing and moved to defend -- she shouted, "Get down!", brought the eel to the ground, and turned gray like the sand so they couldn't be found and they vanished, the closest of friends. |