Drifting

by Terrance Boult

I am alone, in the midst of a school.  My breath is all I hear.
I reach out with a friendly hand; they retreat out of fear.
Little cliques within the school, flashing their colors for all to see.
I wish I could be closer to them.  I wish they would accept me.

Relentless currents push ever on, bringing me to a different place.
Excited though I am inside,  I drift,  a relaxing pace
and watch for islands of activity in the larger sea of life.
Some schools seam so full of joy,  others filled with strife.    

A few groupers to the left of me. A pair of jacks off on the right.
I spy a French angle dead ahead.  She 's such a pretty sight.
I make a friendly gesture.  She doesn't seem to mind.
I causally advance toward her. I'm starting to unwind!

Briskly does she turn away;  my friendship foray fails.
Sadly I surrender her, skulking amid a schoal of yellow-tails.
One breath and they reject me too, siftly scattering all around,
But bathing in boundless beauty becalms, and bids me to rebound.

Two lone trumpets tilt tentatively. Sixty glass slippers swirl as one.
A solitary urchin sits shivering by fifteen fans a fluttering.
As crimson colored walls seem to sing amid deep blues tones a thundering,
my soul rejoices, vicariously, drifting though Cozumel's coral cathedral fun.