- Non-Erotic Poetry
- 1 Fish
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The hero casts his fragile line,
daughter watching from creekside
as he hooks a rainbow trout.
Its slender body shimmers despite
the floundering and flopping
of wide-eyed screams
which slap at every ripple
of that frigid mountain stream.
The fisherman's prize emerges-
exhausted and dripping
sanguine from the muddied soup.
But what other purpose has she ever known
but to swim upstream and spawn new life
for a fisherman's tale
of the one that got away
but not this fish, not today.
- COMMENTS
fridayamover 13 years agobeautifully caught. There are a couple of changes I would suggest, but nothing major.
ElmerGlewalmost 16 years agothat has, for me, a faint but twisted echo of Yeats' "Song of Wandering Aengus". I am puzzled about a couple things, though, like how the "frigid mountain stream" morphs into a "muddied soup." Granted, a mountain stream could be muddy, but that isn't my usual image, and "stream" implies movement to me whereas "soup" implies stillness.
The other point is the choice of the word "sanguine," presumably to describe the fish as reddish. But sanguine also means cheerful or optimistic and that creates some confusion for me in the reading.
Which may of course, be good. Nice poem.
UnderYourSpellalmost 16 years agoDear me I enjoy fishing with all that is going on around me sitting in the countryside , but now you have made me feel sorry for the fish!
LeBrozalmost 16 years agoThis poem has been selected for listing in Wednesday's New Poems Review.<br>
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