Each day they come. We see them on the shore,

come rain or shine.

They climb aboard the boats, some with excitement,

some with trepidation.

Some look really sad.

Poor things!

 

The boat speeds out to where my friends and I

are frisking in the waves.

We wait for them - it’s our job, it’s what we do.

Now.

 

With help, they timidly descend into our realm.

They’re told they must not touch

unless we are willing.

Must not make a lot of noise.

And they swim among us

and they speak.

 

We have to hear such things!

It makes us very sad!

How some are lonely, with their hearts broken.

A loved one has died or left them.

Or they have some dreadful disease.

A fear or phobia that we must cure.

They tell us all their secrets

hoping we can make it better.

We smile, for we can’t help but smile.

But inside we cry.

The salty salty tears well up.

 

I remember when we had lives of our own.

We swam, fished, made love, gossiped.

We were free!

It seems like another world now.

 

I’m troubled by my new life,

I have bad dreams

where all the disasters of the world

are mine to deal with.

Sometimes it’s hard to cope.

 

I suppose we could just swim away -

it’s a free sea after all!

But we don’t like to.

We feel so sorry for them all,

we have to stay on flipper

just in case they need us.

It’s our duty

in this day and age.

My conscience wouldn’t let me

swim away!