By Toni Hoberecht
Gleaming light of natural wonders,
Kept quiet in a cement box.
Brilliant yellow, jet black iridescence.
Rapscallion high pitched giggles.
Water glide, smooth, swift.
Tiny spires rise from a head with bulging eyes,
Clinging underneath a coral arch.
With skinny lips they try to speak,
From behind the stone thick glass.
Graceful stares, sheathed pupils.
The seahorse nods his head,
As if to say, how do you do?