silver fish

firm unmoving, still as a rock, roots planted firm

a boat deep-docked,

the constant whirl

the hands of the clock

but i stir not

steadfast hours minutes pass

i fear not the time

the thin white line we dare not cross

i dare say i've been lost

a while, searching the sky

while my boat was tossed high

pillar to post, earth to sky dock to dock a play without plot

a hand without a glove

and needing love, needing love

but fear will not bring him near

nor the need, nor the need complete as a riverbank

i reel it in

silver fish shining scales like seeds

slipping through fingers like leaves and i please me, i please me, finally whiling hours among the reeds born of the rivers, rainwater sweet, rushes bear me home and this bird has grown to become a swan the girl has gone a woman won Photo: Jose Murillo