Glass Poetry Press

Volume Four Issue Two

Abigail Carroll

The Way a Fish

The way a fish moves through water, through light, the way light doubles the body of the fish, turns it into a mirror of itself, the mirror being the water's invitation to see a bright pool of scales where once there was a fish, a school of silver coins, a great, green-glass chandelier dangling in the flow, each cut-glass drop sewn like sequins to the wind, the wind being the way the water moves around the coins, the coins being another way to see the fish, the way it moves through water, through light the way it doubles, becomes a silver mirror, the mirror being the fish disappearing into a thousand versions of itself.