The Drowned Spearfisher

P1110126 (4) (2)



In the bay he dove
through the weeds to spear a feast;
where his ream surfaced
was not hugged by tepid cove.
To be pried from him you love!

As bereft as one
who has drifted long and out
untethered from boat
in the folds of roiling dome
—how we’re stranded all alone!

Will his body float
back at least to be caressed,
be up-born from fetid moat
and embraced to weeping breast?



P1110123 (5) (2)

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