As I peer up at his boat, Caliban,
through the warming late spring waters of this
New Jersey back bay, I see his lucent
line descend. His chartreuse jig bumps along
bottom mussel beds as he persuades me
to lunch with him. The immortal current
slows as high tide approaches. He thinks I swim
in unfamiliar waters, but not so:
I have slipped along these bottom sands
through its cuts and channels for centuries,
surviving Nor’easters, water spouts,
predators — and Shakespearean tempests.
4 thoughts on “Flat Fish”
What a smooth read. My favorite so far. More! More!
Thanks, Sarah. I appreciate your kind words and encouragement.
I absolutely love this, the words are sculpted neatly and flows like butter. (But don’t try putting butter on a sculpture, that’s kind of vandalism.) I have an old poem where I had a character who had a dog named Caliban, so this made me reminesce. I don’t see anything that really needs to be tightened, and this might be my favorite poem of the day so far! Thanks for sharing!
You made my day, Liam. Thanks so much.