I fear the <br />parking lot <br />like fish. Not <br /> <br />that I fear <br />fish, only the <br />peculiar silence of <br /> <br />resting, snub-nosed <br />in the colors of their pee <br />as once my goldfish <br /> <br />died, waiting <br />for whatever happens <br />to be over <br /> <br />hanging still <br />and dingy <br />in his little sea.<br /><br />Cynthia Jobin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-parking-lot-3/
