Franz Schubert wrote a lovely little lied
About a fish who frolicked, scales agleam
Until an angler’s gimmick did succeed,
In hooking it by muddying the stream.
Sometimes, I’m like that playful little fish
Anticipating anglers’ every whim,
But other times, perspective’s what I wish,
To keep the world from seeming quite so grim.
So I enjoy my bright, clean tank by day
And venture into riverbeds at night.
Though I’ve not tired of living thus halfway,
I know, deep in my heart, that I just might.
It’s sad to think the prospect of the hook
Excludes so many fishes from the brook.