They say there’s a ghost in the pond.
Big as a dog, orange like fire,
wears a face that’s not its own…
a mask of stone and fury.

But it’s no ghost.
It’s a goldfish.
One they flushed,
or forgot,
or never believed in
when it was small.

It lived in glass.
Fed crumbs of care.
Until the world cracked open,
and water poured wide.
The fish swam free…
and became itself.

Now it rules the pond.
Not with teeth,
but with power.

The koi step aside.
The shadows watch it pass.
Because this goldfish
learned how to grow.

Not a ghost.
Not a warning.
Just a goldfish
who outgrew
everything they gave him.