“Teacher!”, says child,
“Come look at the tank!
The fish on the top?
to the bottom he’s sank.”
Poor little fishy,
twitch-twitch goes his tail.
Sick little fishy,
so gray and so pale.
We clean out the tank,
scrub sides, top and bottom.
Whatever germs fish get?
This fishy’s got ’em.
All day we wait,
the children go home.
Teacher and fishy –
in room all alone.
Four little fishies,
one is so sick.
Now he must die in
the way of least ‘ick’.
Teacher calls hubby
to ask for advice.
Hubby lists endings
in ways not so nice.
Teacher scoops fish,
puts under truck tire,
backs over fishy
for passing least dire.
Squish went the fishy,
and now there are three.
A story for you,
Tonight’s post for me.