How can this be?
These vessels swim on
A cellophane sea

It’s art,

As they move
Slowly constricted
Somewhat restricted, on
A cellophane sea

The crane swoops down
Barely misses a fish with
Tissue paper fins
It would have
Been a meager
Lunch

The eye of
A paper mache
Hurricane moves in,
Slowly crawls
It flows,
It flows,
They all survive,
On a cellophane sea