One Way To Learn How To Fish
Everything about him is
graceful darkness
and everything about where
he stands
is light
the dock is a dark line hovering
over the shining
membrane that hides the
darker deep
waters
His raised voice breaks
the quiet
in our tent and,
roused unwilling,
I unzip the tent and
peer out.
He is dancing, high-stepping
on the very end of
the dock, belting out a
sing-song warning
to the fish
of their doom once he baits
his line. All else is
quiet in the campground
the others in our tent
deep in heedless sleep.
It is dark magic above
a silver lake
and I do not trust
magic, as much as I
need to watch,
as much as the fear in me,
the grouch in me
simply wants to sleep.
His coat
sweeps around his frame
all inky wings
and sparking
energy as he swirls and
laughs, waving
and balancing with the hand
that holds
his bottle -
he sings and shouts,
all of it work meant
to mesmerize
his prey.
Judith Mikesch McKenzie has traveled much of the world, but is always drawn to the Rocky Mountains as one place that feeds her soul. She loves change - new places, new people, new challenges, but writing is her home. Her poems have been published in Pine Row Press, Halcyone Literary Review, Plainsongs Magazine, Closed Eye Open, Scribblerus, Cathexis Northwest Press, Meat for Tea Valley Review, and several others. She is a wee bit of an Irish curmudgeon, but her friends seem to like that about her.
Everything about him is
graceful darkness
and everything about where
he stands
is light
the dock is a dark line hovering
over the shining
membrane that hides the
darker deep
waters
His raised voice breaks
the quiet
in our tent and,
roused unwilling,
I unzip the tent and
peer out.
He is dancing, high-stepping
on the very end of
the dock, belting out a
sing-song warning
to the fish
of their doom once he baits
his line. All else is
quiet in the campground
the others in our tent
deep in heedless sleep.
It is dark magic above
a silver lake
and I do not trust
magic, as much as I
need to watch,
as much as the fear in me,
the grouch in me
simply wants to sleep.
His coat
sweeps around his frame
all inky wings
and sparking
energy as he swirls and
laughs, waving
and balancing with the hand
that holds
his bottle -
he sings and shouts,
all of it work meant
to mesmerize
his prey.
Judith Mikesch McKenzie has traveled much of the world, but is always drawn to the Rocky Mountains as one place that feeds her soul. She loves change - new places, new people, new challenges, but writing is her home. Her poems have been published in Pine Row Press, Halcyone Literary Review, Plainsongs Magazine, Closed Eye Open, Scribblerus, Cathexis Northwest Press, Meat for Tea Valley Review, and several others. She is a wee bit of an Irish curmudgeon, but her friends seem to like that about her.
