Inky the octopus noticed
when his keeper left
the tank lid ajar.
He swam over, lifted it,
slid down to the floor,
walked on what we call
tentacles to a six inch drain,
formed his sucker feet into mittens,
squeezed open the drain,
first his large head,
then his malleable body ,
down the drain
which luckily led
to the blue Pacific.
Next morning his keepers
saw the telltale round footprints,
saw the drain lid askew.
He was impossible to recapture.
They, and all of us, dream
of him swimming free
among the russetgreen corals,
past the small cliffs where
underneath the yellow fish sway.
Lucky Inky.