Poetry in the Ocean

The Fry and the Polyp

I keep strange company, you should know.

They're not my shape and move quite slow.

I found them when I was just a fry.

They were already much older than I.

They could not talk or listen to me.

They had no brains and looked like a tree.

I thought they were one--a single new friend,

But after a year of friendship, they stemmed.

First, one broke off the top of the stack.

I thought my friend had gone to wrack.

With a short little yelp, I wiggled over.

The top slowly drifted to me, closer.

Then another part of my friendly tree

Popped off the top and floated over to me.

Soon there were more--four friends in all--

Still older than me, but now all so small.

They were not like the friend I'd known;

These ones were soft, and softly shown.

Their bodies were bubbles with angel hair

That drifted and swept below their sphere.

They held the light in a delicate glow,

And moved like ghosts as they followed the flow.

I tried to keep up with my tiny fin,

But my nose is quite heavy and my fin is too thin.

And just when I thought I'd lost my only companion,

One picked me up with his head cushion!

They would not leave me behind by myself,

But they would not stay on the coastal shelf.

I took one last look towards home--

And all the coral I'd known.

All the other seahorses looked back at me.

But friends are friends,

And our bond never ends.

So, I ride with the jellyfish in the sea.