Octopus

She is pale - now.
Each breath, a strain.
Her cave is hidden,
Dark and secret.
She is alone.

She sways with the current,
Tending her hanging gardens
Of Babylon with infinite care.
Eyes almost human regard me,
They do not ask why.

Her fate she accepts,
And I admire her for that.
Her children won't be unhappy.
I cannot help her - now.
Too much has been given.

This time she doesn't breathe,
Time for the little ones to leave.
Tears well in my eyes,
Time doesn't stop,
And softly she dies.

by Alexa Greenwood

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Comments (1)

This really touched me and made me want to explore the words more to explain my feelings after reading it...nice job, renee