Goldfish Life

Goldfish…a passing distraction

Goldfish Life
Goldfish Life…what’s it thinking?

The fish looked with a blank expression,
fixed on my eyes,
as if to wonder what lay beyond the water,
yet its life appeared in and exhalation alone,
its mouth an open and shut trap
for algae, its habitual zone.

It knew the water’s end,
that glass, a hard water limit,
and accepted the box it lived in,
each pass, each swim somewhat reminiscent,
of all the moments,
minutes, hours and days it lived, alone.

I looked for sadness, loneliness
or just boredom in its eyes,
but nothing,
just the feeling it was thinking of me,
how I became to be beyond the hard water,
in such a big box.

After a moment the fish departed,
swimming its route, its mouth agog,
each breath a resounding will to live
and me a mere distraction,
from the day of a goldfish,
its languid sanctum of freedom.

Then its stopped, looked into my eyes….

Tony DeLorger © 2016

Tony DeLorger
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Tony DeLorger

Full time author, freelance writer, poet and blogger since 1999. Twenty one published works, past winner of 'Poet of the Year' on HubPages, 'Poem of the Year' on The Creative Exiles, writer for, Google+, videos on YouTube and book sales on website, Amazon and

4 thoughts on “Goldfish Life

  • August 29, 2016 at 8:17 PM

    Is the fish wondering how you live in a place with no boundaries, no hard water wall to protect you, keep you from going astray? I used to stare at the goldfish my mother kept and thought they must be very lonely and bored. What an interesting observation, Tony. Makes me ponder, what is fish thinking?

  • August 29, 2016 at 10:51 PM

    Yes, we all wonder what they think about, but as many have suggested they don’t have long memories, and perhaps they never think enough to be bored. Nature is a wonderful thing. Thanks, Phyllis.

  • August 30, 2016 at 3:44 AM

    My son and his family have a bird..a peach face parrot. It is set free in the house for a couple of hours each day and acts just like a member of the family ..flies from head to head, nibbles your ears, earrings, watches, eats holes in paper when you are trying to write and steals and plays with the pen. He doesn’t want to go back in his cage but never tries to fly outside so he is obviously happy with his lot. I often wonder what he is thinking. Love the poem.

  • August 30, 2016 at 5:10 AM

    Glad you do John, I’m always trying to fathom such things, try to understand life and behavior. Glad you appreciated the work. Cheers! I do love parrots too; we have so many down here in SA.


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