FISH STORY

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FISH STORY


I imagine that I must have surprised you,
What with your waiting game, your sport.
You had exhausted me.
You had that great angler’s skill;
You had me hooked, long, on the line.

It was the lure, you, I swallowed you whole.
I had not seen that a great barb was nestled in the fly.
Your beauty, I had become prey to it,
You must have realized, you must have known,
How beautiful you seemed to me,
How you dazzled, your shimmer,
And I ate you right to the lead sinker.

I was your catch.
I believed every thing you said.

Who would have devined it?
Given the great tensile strength of your nylon-reel wire,
Hard to phantom that I might break it;
But I took a deep dive toward bottom,
Then, gathering up all my muscles' power,
I turned upwards and with a fierce, five-foot leap
I broke above the water's surface.

A loud snap announced how taut had grown the tension.
At once boat and bait had lost all connection.

I swim with that hook; it still punctures my mouth.
Your fisherman’s string, its segment,
Runs along side of me for at least a yard.
My injury, it hurts, and I shall have to bear it for life,
But I have set myself at liberty,
Free to travel world’s grand and open ocean seas.
And may I ask, again, take a moment, please, consider,
Who would ever believe my, this fish story?

But it is true; I have broken from you.