If we could be brought to the surface
like a gleaming fish and served for supper,
if we could eat and swallow our own life
to make a good meal, if we could go fishing
for ourselves and feed on the gleaming
swimmer below the surface of our skin-
the fish that is our slippery life
and death.
If We Could Be Brought
David Ignatow
(1)
Poem topics: death, fishing, good, skin, feed, fish, life, surface, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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