They are swimmers
having left the sea within me
for the one outside
where I cannot control
who they meet or temperature
or tides, moving beyond my distances
fleeing this sliver of land
farming oyster, kelp and salmon
singing songs I cannot hear, closing water
from their membraned ears
diving deep with wide membraned hands
and feet and larger lungs to meet the deep
my little fishies I would coo and then tadpoles
as they grew, ever more me ever something else
to dream the world where wet supplanted dry
is to see them change and challenge and survive 

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