The Death of the Otter
What is this thing floating in my ocean?
It bobs with the wave, like a bird
See the way it behaves
It is not alive
Is it a toy for me?
Is it for play?
It smells of the ocean spray
It is different
My head fits inside
It will not come out
There is no air spout
Everything is going black
I sink to the bottom of my ocean
My dear sweet ocean
There is no commotion
All is quiet
My fur moves with the current
I give up.
I am just a pup.
To my watery grave I succumb