At the bottom of the lake is another lake. And at the bottom of that lake is an ocean. Distinct water quality separates the bodies. There are children at the bottom of each lake. Under them are more children. The children are a passive breed. But they enjoy playing with rusted lures and remnants of bait. Their lips are blood-stained and torn; always engaging sharp metal. Their eyes dilate in a perpetual state of amazement, having never caught their prey. A constant stream of seaweed and trout travels between each body of water. They mingle with seahorses that offer the children rides on their backs. But the children stay put. They know their place; content to cuddle with starfish. No one knows about the lakes or ocean. No one knows about the children. They disappeared long ago. But parents stopped searching. Chalked up their loss to unknown wonders of the world. Hands turned into fins, but no one ever taught them how to use them. Sometimes the children get nostalgic. Long for man-made memories, the permanence of land. Waving goodbye is an impossible task.
Daniel Romo
Daniel Romo’s work appears or is forthcoming in Gargoyle, The Los Angeles Review, MiPOesias, Yemassee, and elsewhere. His first book of poetry, Romancing Gravity, is forthcoming from Pecan Grove Press. His second book of poetry, When Kerosene’s Involved, is forthcoming from Black Coffee Press. He teaches creative writing, and lives in Long Beach, CA. More of his writing can be found at danielromo.wordpress.com.
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