JB & BJ Grim
There is a land beneath the sea where children play like Manatees. Instead of feet, they all have fins; between their fingers they grow skin. I’d take you there, but, sad to say, you would not last a single day. The kids there breathe with gills, not lungs; but here’s a secret—they thirst to run! They peek above the waves at you and dream of joining games you do. Their poets write of grassy lands where kids have lungs and feet and hands!