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A Fish on Ice at Mixson’s Grocery
As with my teacher’s disapproving eyes
A poor iced fish glared out upon the world -
Without her sanction everything had changed
And silent on the ice she watched life pass
Holding my mother’s hand, I was passing too
From baby food to breakfast cereal
Somehow the fish appeared to feel that this
Was an affront to her cold dignity
And thus her eyes – they seemed to follow me
And since the fish was dead, what could she see?
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