I’m at a biology lab.
Bright green seaweed floats in jars
for study by braincells in white coats.  

Miasma is a genus,
of which there are species.
Two of them immediately interest me.

One, half the size of a Swiffer,
gushes like a firehose,
enthusiastic and hopeful as a puppy.  

The other, with longer fronds,
pumps laughter through our bodies.
It floats in the middle of our right kidney.  

When healthily alive, seaweed knows
the great seaworld that we don’t see
and goes where ocean needs processing.  

The study of seaweed requires trust,
the same trust that makes
creation float.