not what our
ancestors thought
the moment
they first slithered
up from the dross;
the abandon, and
the leeway
and facility they sought
could not be
bought with grit, but demanded
certainty as the cost.
Soon, we were free
to the extent
that we were lost:
leaping—
without even
the savior faire to look
as we stuck
each slimy landing—
from rock,
to rock, to rock.
To this day, with each random
pivot we manage
our fish brains still tingle
and reel with
the delight
of having skirted certain
death and damage—but never
the same way twice.
