A Slice of Ocean

Random impromptu weirdness that had to get out of my brain. I don’t know if it’s worthy, but here you are:

Sometimes I wonder at my wisdom,

as I stare at the seventy-five gallons

of water, teeming to the brim with life.

The work it takes to maintain,

the time I invest in keeping everything

as clean as I would like it to be.

Once I added it all up, the time,

and the money I’d spent on my hobby.

Afterwards, I didn’t buy anything,

except groceries, for a month.

I had to be talked into investing more,

even if one day I would wake up

and find the whole thing was a bust.

Water in the floor, tank clouded over,

fish all dead, worse, the precious coral.

Many times, I’ve considered,

tearing it all down, piece by piece.

Selling off every carefully chosen

piece of equipment, every animal.

And then when I need it most,

the clownfish wag their tails.

The corals explode in growth.

The algae abates, and the work slows.

I stand back and enjoy the beauty.

I’m in awe of the leaps in technology

that make it possible for me

to enjoy a slice of ocean

even if I don’t live close to one.