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 at a relaxing pace
and watch for islands of activity in the larger sea of life.
Some islands 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.
A little 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.
Sladly I surrender, and  try to blend with some yellow-tails.
But they reject me just as fast, and scatter all around.
Slowly does the boundless beauty bid me to rebound.

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