Retreat
Greg Beatty
gold carp hover.
Among them swims
a lone brown fish.
Here, in retreat,
I am that fish.
Brown among those
who seek and gladly
pay for enlightenment
in three day weekends.
Gold calls to gold.
Flickering, they
return to their ties.
I am still, brown,
fish in a pond that
is itself brown and,
often, a good place to swim.
For in brown waters
(in still brown waters)
the sun hovers, bearing
gold enough for me.
Author Bio
Greg Beatty attended Clarion West in the summer of 2000. He's had a number of short stories accepted since then. When he's not at his computer, he enjoys cooking, practicing martial arts, and having complex interpersonal relationships.
For more information on his writing, visit his web site.
Published by permission of the author.
