Bottom Feeder

The little sea star folds her arms like noodles
Around a stone half-buried in the sand
Possessing little she must be firm and frugal
To prosper in poverty-- the tiny queen of the hinterland

The others glide like sunlight over stones
And smile inside their splendid silver scales
How quaint, how dull, says the little cabezon
And so agrees the mocking yellowtail

From blue-green forests descending closely flocked
The gentry of the distant shallows observe
And flash their shining tails on her rock
And sympathize in her troubles undeserved

But the little sea star smiles and waves them on 
And burrows more warmly in the sandy floor
It’s true! This is a far cry from Babylon--
But I want not for anything more


2016