The Worst Occupation
Upon reflection, I realise this poem is more about three things. The first is effort. The second resilience. The third is knowing when you have met your match.
Wading in a pond of emotions
not knowing how to swim
with an instrument he
has no control over,
the fisherman skinny dips the surface.
Thrashing in its gills
hook line and rising up to the
surface,
of attention antics,
the fish takes the bait,
and pulls
him
under
Gasping for the last
kiss from the diver’s helmet
that will decompress him, if he comes up
too fast,
he savors the sight of
the Golden Carp.
Why is she carp? and not salmon?
floating with the ocean current,
to then be cradled up by a bear, Moses amongst the reeds
brought up with opposites values, but
for some reason is happy,
to be the bear’s next meal.
