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Fishes and Scales, M.C. Escher |
Trout Moon
Beneath the trout moon
glisten the bones
of many happy fish
who thought they could
swim up a moonbeam.
Look at my wrist.
They pose much clearer
here, mouth to tail
silver scale, chained
to show sorrow
to tomorrow.
~April 2016
posted for real toads
Images via the internet, no copyright infringement intended.
This is awesome, Hedge...love the brevity and the thought of smiling fish wishing to swim up a moonbeam. :)
ReplyDeleteAh, but to at least dream of swimming up a moonbeam!
ReplyDeleteThis makes me think of more than fish. Tight verse and I like the bracelet.
ReplyDeleteLovely rhythm and flow...!!
ReplyDelete..who thought they could swim up a moonbeam.... what a haunting phrase
ReplyDeleteThis is tight, and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThis poem is lovely, I especially like the words
ReplyDelete"chained
to show sorrow
to tomorrow."
Those poor trouts... only few will spawn, but their offspring will fill the rivers. Love the concept of trout moon.
ReplyDeleteI am so glad you're back, at least for two poems! Fish trying to swim up a moonbeam reminds me of Nilsson's "Moonbeam Song". The rhymes in this are marvelous, and the whole idea of wearing a bracelet of fish bones--who seem oddly alive, even so--to show sorrow is just poetry, girl.
ReplyDeleteOh my..swim up a moonbeam...if only. I think bones is an incredible visual of sorrow. It speaks of exposed, raw sorrow. I am so glad the prompt sparked another poem! Thanks for writing and sharing in the garden!
ReplyDeleteI love the fish trying to swim up a moonbeam. Somehow, I can relate. Beautiful, Hedge and a very wonderful bracelet too.
ReplyDeleteAgree with shay, lovely conceit and more than conceit. I especially like the play of silver scale here whixh I can't help but think of as weight here with the bones. Thanks. K.
ReplyDeleteVery nice, both with and without the image. The two strengthen each other, but the poem works on its own, too.
ReplyDeleteI'm not reading too many tonight - been busy for ever (health is better today). But I will always read yours - and love that image of swimming to the moon ~
ReplyDeleteThanks, M--glad to hear you're feeling a bit better--but as you said to me, no pressure on the reading--this one was pretty short for me. ;_)
DeleteThanks for cresting up out of that moon river here for this simple and well-wrought urn of a yearn, annealing the links on the backs of those happy fish--"to show sorrow / to tomorrow." Amen, and hello.
ReplyDeleteTrouts swim upstream to spawn, but often to their death. Your poem suggests that sense of upward downfall. So beautifully expressed.
ReplyDeletecool
ReplyDeleteDamn, this is gooooood.
ReplyDeleteThe ice is just meltin here in ... still time to catch that fish ... Love, cat.
ReplyDeleteIt's almost easy not to mind morphing into bones, if one gets to dream (and actually) swim up a moombeam. I can only imagine the light, and thickness of the silvery moon-waters.
ReplyDeleteAnd, my goodness, I'm in love with this bracelet. ♥