"My fins are hands."
- Richard Hugo, "Duwamish Head"
Fishing With Richard Hugo
"Go on, give it one more try", he said.
I remember the flash of silver spoon,
The keening of line as it arced out
And over and then into the horizon,
The setting sun bleeding in the water.
I remember not holding tight to the rod
Nor to the hope of any last reason to.
And then it hit, first diving and then
Leaping free of water but not the hook,
Retracing the arc the line had made.
I remember the ache of give and take,
The reel singing as it played me
And rasping as I fought it closer,
A last futile leap to fling itself free,
Each of us flailing in shallowing light.
But I could not tell you, now or then,
What I had caught, as he splashed
Into the water, the hairs of his hands
Scaled with salt flakes like sea stars,
Fingers like the fins of a beautiful fish.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 412 times
Written on 2011-04-25 at 20:09
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
josephus |
|
ngaio Beck |
|
|
|
John Ashleigh |
