So we decided to eat the smallest ones
but we couldn’t decide whether to tell them.
We gathered every scrap of seaweed that swam by,
gave it to them with the last fresh water. We sang them
Christmas songs and the Hokey Pokey.
They turned their faces to the sun
as if it made them bloom. Laughing like
the ship had never sunk, they turned red-brown
as apples. My brother took pity
and told them of their destiny. Shrieking,
they flung themselves into the sea and swam
from our clenching bellies.
Now my brother and I watch each other
with eyes that measure love,
speed, and meat.