When we lost Shamu
in the firestorm
Eric was (understandably)
inconsolable.
The other specialists
sang him to sleep
most nights, or gave
him foot massages.
Only rarely was his
insomnia abated.
And Eric had once been
such a happy-go-lucky
handler, no circles
under his eyes,
smile on his lips,
perfect rows of
teeth, only ate
raw fish when
no one was looking.
Now Eric swims
in slow circles
in his tank
mourning with
pathetic chirps
and clicks, splash
ing, occasionally.
