Listless

There are shallows of water-

here after the tides receded.

Gathered together lie small urchins

and slimy  anemones,  tentacles laying

flaccid in the salty water.

 

The stones around the pool’s perimeter

are stained with dark purple mosses

and have cracked through over thousands

of years of altered weather.

 

The water is hot, hotter than it has been since

the beginning days,

towards the equator, boiling ocean and

endless steam has become the current state

of affairs.

 

In the pool there linger some small silver fish

their eyes tiny coal black dots, mouths

gaping to suck oxygen out of their microcosmic

sea.

 

Above them, reflected dimly on their scales,

hangs the sun.

Red and throbbing, the moon a black hole

across its face. It swells noticeably,

reaching out its plasma tendrils

to embrace the world.