Tomorrow Never Comes

The orcas decreed 

that the dolphin’s wedding

should be delayed by a day.

Delayed till tomorrow,

if tomorrow ever came.

This would give more time, they said,

to decorate the wedding gowns,

to weave more shells into the kelp,

the tiniest of muscle shells for him

in every shade of blue,

sweet pink cockle shells for her,

sometimes veering towards red

as if warning of danger.

The music was to be rock ‘n’ roll,

played by the Killers, of course

on improvised pianos.

The octopus was responsible for

the wedding breakfast.

He had enlisted the help of every friend

to enlarge and beautify his garden.

To transport rocks with anemones attached

and bring a multitude of coloured pebbles and shells

to enclose the fishy titbits collected specially for the feast.

But in spite of their reassurances,

still he worried about the guest list.

So many orcas and dolphins

who did not have a good reputation

so far as the octopuses were concerned.

But the garden was beautiful

and surely it was a fact

that tomorrow never came.

He had always believed it.

Now time would tell.