XII. The Coral Halls.

**An Initial Draft** 

I’ve come to watch the reef behave.

Its shimmer bright, its instincts grave.

What games are played beneath the gloss?

What truths emerge in beds of moss?

Do fish form cliques in coral halls?

Do lionfish mock cleaner thralls?

Do parrotfish rehearse a smile,

Then side-eye grouper’s clumsy style?

Do swordfish boast they’ve earned their place

By cutting paths with steely grace?

Do dolphins herd the ocean floor,

And whisper rules of reef décor?

Do angelfish avert their gaze

When jellyfish drift through the haze?

Do crabs stack shells just to proclaim

A fragile rank, without a name?

Do eels connive, do flounders lie?

Do sharks pretend they never spy?

Do tuna circle, cold and bland,

Around a feast they never planned?

Do barnacles fixed fast to stone

Deride the fish who roam alone?

Do whales debate which ones belong,

And sing exclusion into song?

Do octopus disguise their aims

With inky swirls and borrowed names?

Do rays, so smooth near drifting sand,

Dismiss the ones they can’t withstand?

Do currents carry coded rules —

Old secrets kept in schools of schools?

Do colors flare in veiled offense,

a silent form of self-defense?

Do bodies glide in perfect form

While mutiny begins to swarm?

Does posture sneer, does silence warn?

Does mimicry become the norm?

When chased by fear or fate or spite,

Do schools swim fast to set things right?

Or drift through salt and swirling shell,

No legacy to buy or sell?

Does every fin know where it’s from?

Does every tide betray someone?

Does elegance conceal the cost

Of knowing who, or what, is lost?

I watch them sweep in fluid arcs —

No borders, ballots, brands, or marks.

They shimmer past with liquid poise,

no need to justify their noise.

Yet here I stand, a guest ashore,

Inventing laws they’ve never swore.

I read my fears in shifting fins,

Reflected back on ancient skins.

Perhaps the reef, in silent sprawl,

Knows nothing of our rise or fall,

I watch it gleam, then turn away ,

Its truths too deep to net or claim.

For what it’s worth,

-Charlene Iris

One thought at a time.

One truth at a time. 

Because some epiphanies stay with you.