We are all fish.


The first drops mixed in the river
And were lost
As the hook pierced
The lip and started the cost.
The air saw the second wave of red
As the tail whipped
And the stare turned to the unknown.
The water stopped and the air slipped
Along the length
Of the shine
In a new experience
On the end of the line.
The end of the line
Had begun with the cast
And the false fly
Tempted it to its last.

The home was left behind
And the net
Stole the wet.

Nothing felt
After the stone met the head
And it didn't hear
The grass as its gills, softly seeping, bled.
It didn't know the pain
Of the heat
As it turned from muscle
To meat
On the pan.
The sizzle and the seasoning
Were beyond
Its reasoning.

The careless fork - the bone -
In the throat, and the unknown stare

13:06, Tue. 27/01/2015.

Poetry by Mark J. Wood
Read 828 times
Written on 2015-08-13 at 14:27

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
You make it sound as barbaric as it probably is to many. The ending is great. Just as the fish was hooked so is the person. And the metaphor that we are all hooked by our actions is so apt. Well done indeed.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
That's an amusing ending.