The Waiting Room's Fish Tank
'I think it's a Butterfly Goodeid'
She said at the fish tank whilst the boy
Stared the green paper waste bin down.
It stuck to his eyes like dry blood on a dirty wound.
I spent a minute or two in the toilet and came back to the waiting room.
The woman said to the boy, who remained stuck
In his noiseless, motionless duelling, an unfortunate arctic explorer
Incubated by ice,
'Yes, it's definitely a Butterfly Goodeid'...
Comments about this poem (The Waiting Room's Fish Tank by Sandy Player )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings