morning poem, July 1, 2015



A View From The Walking Bridge


The garfish

Perfectly horizontal

Floats silently into sight

Up from the dark depth of the river

And into the green shallows.


Snakelike and scaley

This three-foot long fish

Looks out of place in this modern world.


It rests in the warm, sunlit water

Then points its bony beak toward the bank

And glides there

Fixing its linear body

At such a depth and angle

As to appear

Only one more sunken log or branch.


Copyright 2015

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2 Responses to morning poem, July 1, 2015

  1. A // W // F says:

    Sometimes, the most ordinary things are absolutely magical … Thank you for sharing!! 🙂

  2. labeak52 says:

    Thanks for reading and commenting. Joe Bird says that my work reminds him of yours. I take that as a compliment.

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