Friday, April 17, 2026

Mark Heathcote

At dusk, as I urged the fish to bite


I remember the lake light shining

like a disk as I fished for perch or pike

at dusk, as I urged the fish to bite, 

bite a spoonful of shimmering bait.


I remember bats flitting and circling

like the insects, they longed to catch

and ripples left by fish that were no match

I remember Father's blunt roll-call home! 


The boathouse, a sarcophagus

with its two-well-rotten doors

gaping open like malnourished jaws

awaiting Death's ferryman back, 

back to those perpetual, keepnet-shores.


I remember the rolling fog rising

about the gnarled chestnut trees 

billowing out into brackish red reeds

and a slice of scaly moon leaping: 

That frantic-fish pulling line from my spool.


I remember the lake light shining

in the scales of a real living ghoul

plucked out of the water, fighting

a fish - that wasn't one bit preschool.




Like a fish


Like a fish

Like a fish, Lord,

Like a fish, devour me.

Like a fish, consume me.

Like a fish, salt-dried, soak me.

Like a fish, smoke-hung, it hangs me.

Like a fish in a frying pan, fry me, eat me.

Like a fish, I contain the minions of the ocean sea.

Like a fish, the mermen and the mermaids all know me.

Like a fish, let me spawn in a riverbed.

Like a fish, let me catch the waves.

Like a fish, let me leap and play.

Like a fish, let me swim upriver.

Like a fish, let me spool away.

Like a fish, let me drown.

Like a fish, let me be.

Fish food for thee

Succour for you

Like a fish, Lord,

Like a fish




Kingfisher


What if God were a kingfisher?

If you and I were fish, would you hide?

Would you play hide and seek?

Since I have welcomed death,

Of death, I have no fear.

So, I welcome the kingfisher of souls.

To snap me up when my time is near

Sure enough, I shall not fight.

Struggle as he holds me midair in flight.

Fish gills shut tight; let mouths be opened.

Let every fish-scale suit of armour fall.

When it's time to answer his inanimate call.



No comments:

Post a Comment

PJ Swift

 Fishbowls What was life like in all those little fishbowls, and all those aquariums of well-cared for fish? Those domesticated aquatic crea...