Mr. Mason

                                               


A small dainty jar named Mason.

At the back of my dark little cupboard.

With tiny little fishies swimming inside,

each one with a secret in its belly.

All little fishies swimming together,

over here over there just plain all over.

Secrets getting switched and turned and traded,

when all little fishies huddle together.

Small little fishies, small little secrets.

Big fishies however, too big for my Mason.

Too big for my cupboard, too big for my words.

When hurt comes visit, one fishy comes in.

When joy taps and knocks, so does another.

When I can't make sense, more fishies come in,

they keep coming in,

but probably never out.

How many fishies are there in my Mason?

How many more,

 is that a question?

Here's a question;

how many are there in yours?