Hum soars to dreadful roar
on opening the door, late again,
to the hall that’s hung
with the drab whiff
of childhood unhappiness.
Where others- bright fish
gliding in native waters-
meet and greet and flash little white teeth.
Who, with the deftest of darts and turns,
navigate the warm shallows
bottomed with skin searing reef.
Not for them the flounder and gape
in vain for the right words or face
to bring to the gathering
of mothers who know the code;
as doomed as clutching via useless gills
for oxygen from air.