by Annabelle Veith, Year 12
Lackadaisical propulsion of hairs
of silky poison. Lack of bones and brains
and bloods and hearts but it somehow remains
alive. Enrapts me, yet stays unawares
and continues to aimlessly exist
in the vast deeps. But here, captured beyond
the thick jail, seems to not miss the big pond.
The spongy (sans a firm shell foes resist)
and pregnable appearance through this glass
eludes the intention of harm.
That sting,
sizzling and silent, leaks from limbs of grass
and drives Curious to fatal shock. King
of the waters, without even knowing.
Life of isolation, yet keeps going.
