Fishhook

the child watched the light reflect in the water 

to cling to the promise of a second sun turning 

everything imperceptible in its haze, 

to watch the fish and feel envious of their quick escapes–

slick and elusive and good as any body could hope to be

 

the man hid in the shadow cast by his own self 

to search for relief from the stares that pierce like needles, 

to find the water not as warm as he had hoped 

and the bed’s floor much lower than he had thought, 

where bones give way to mud

 

the body flinched from the shadows overhead

to feel the slice of the reeds against skin, 

to taste the tang of chemicals and algae, 

to hear the choking of the plants–

a final desperation before the end

 

the man crawled out of the waters 

to know that every step there was another fish hook

to bury into the skin, 

to see his reflection painted in blues once more 

and beg forgiveness