there was once a nice couple who would come and sit on a platform and read and watch me and mister, and then, during obama's drone terror campaign and targeted assassination campaign and rendition torture campaign we got in a hot argument and they were as adamant about the goodness of obama as i was about the evil and though i apologized for getting so vociferous and though they said, it's ok, really, i never saw them again until today. i could feel them down at the other end of the beach, half-hidden by a little scrub tree, even with my glasses off. and then i saw her grey mane, and him dipping in the less desirable zone where the rocks are slimy. i don't think i feel any differently today, a tinge of regret, but my convictions regarding obama are even clearer. too bad though, he and i both love bees, and that was the start of our conversation, about a bee i rescued from the lake, and we could still talk about the bees if politics had not intervened. or we could be allies in resistance to the new regime, though who knows, they may have flipped, they were binary, and status quo. anyway it was kind of funny, i could feel them watching, half hidden, and i still felt that connection that began before and ended, of being appreciated and seen, for the way we are, just happily playing together in the sea. without words the way it still may be.