Ode to Koi in Scarpa's Pond

Audrey Gorton

Sloughing forth and back, they part 

the water with bodies like bells. But, 

no. There’s no parting at all, look again 

into the still black mass: no trail nor wake  

is left by the pass of their chorus. 

See them braid a communion, hear 

their slick backs toll with less sound 

than the penniless tin. Oh, if I could only pray 

as they do. Even the curve of a spine rings 

praise without ripple: melodies 

memorized in movement. How I envy 

the sweet lulling length of their to 

and fros, their ever habitual 

patience for pacing. Oh, to be laden 

with nothing, to be light as light 

tubing through a windowpane.

Published in Catacombs Press, Volume III, January 2025.