Many Goldfish Swimming

.
On profusion
                                                  of stones
camped
                                          on a gray gravel bar
arising by a creek
low
exposed sand            and driftwood
signs of people

Ahgreyeuss Pahn crosses                                        
                                                    the heavy morning
noting a presence

                            which elicits fear
and he hides                                              

joining                                                  
                            others in his fear
They conceal together    behind a log
                                             wondering if they are safe

Knowing that the creek                           
                         must go somewhere
they follow it

As they parallel its course
                            the water turns black
and there are pools with
                              familiar
                                                               darkness       and goldfish

They come to a place where
        a trickle comes
                                               into the creek from the side
over a small but aesthetic
                                                   waterfall—
it is Ahgreyeuss Pahn’s
built of his hand
and so he stays here                   
                            while the others go on…


…Ahgreyeuss visits a house of young uniformed people
where there are three girls     visiting
                                                                    from Japan…

…he meets them later in a bar

in the smoke
              and colored lights
                            among tables
                                                     and glass
                                        by the surly at the counter

They sit                                      
listening to the lottery     

Ahgreyeuss has many tickets
but he is not lucky     

He looks up from his tickets
and finds
                            that the third girl
                                                                     is gone

In his wondering                                   
he listens                                             
                                                                     and hears a squeaking—
a chair
a door
a boot
                perhaps
but not so near
          a scream—

                                             he worries

He runs around the block

He searches for her        

                     with a flashlight in dawn
          out by the harbor
            in the grey and water
hunting the presence     
                                                to see if it has taken her

                                                          The sky lightens
there is nothing there
but lily pads                               

He crosses the heavy morning                               
                                                 of the estuary
back to the hills and creek
to the fall
                    and flooding—

it has rained                      

                         and
downstream from the black rocks
left                            
lying                        
at the stages         
of the flood       
are    
lines
        of dead
     goldfish

Ahnjehlia                              
greets                                          
him                                 
"Still"

she remarks
“In the grey ponds           look!
The flood has left                      
           many goldfish

swimming”           

.

.