Light rain over the
ocean and a plastic-lined
canal of sleek carp.
Gauzy fins and mouths
opening and closing, they
wanted and wanted.
In and out, bodies
merging together, waver
of dappled gold scales
over the surface-
every movement an act of
disappearance. Then,
let it be a pond
in Japan, backyard garden
in California-
the koi circling
languidly, water airy
and light-filled as
a Hockney painting.
Their gasping mouths like diving
bells in their hunger.
Flash of gold, vibrant
stilled suns, like something lost and
gained within the hour.
Writing: Eliza Browning
Music: Stephanie Yen
Art: Helen Mak