Original Owl #2

Sluicing through glass, leaning right, leaning left, peacock plumes fan and frame her sleek, fluid bodies jump and glide down icy ridges, plop plunk ploosh into teal depths framed in windows packed with onlookers gleefully watching the animated antics onstage as lean bodies writhe, sway, rock to the beat of a thousand hearts sharing the heat, sharing the grass, sharing the experience of pure emotion set to pounding rhythms as people pack together hoping for one short breath of fresh air sliding across a forehead beaded with sweat, eyes heavy with contentment and exhaustion, millions of green tiny arms supporting the weight of limp bodies sprawled beneath the stars that glow brighter than the sun reflected off of the water that stretches ahead, unsuspecting, unaware that any second it'll be sliced through and cast aside, another casualty of strong legs and an expensive water ski.