A Rare Atmospheric Anomaly
Sept 28 2008


You’d think the smell
would have overwhelmed you
gagging,
that many fish
all at once;
their quicksilver forms
turning dull in the heat of the sun.
But it’s the sound you remember,
all those small stiff bodies
flipping and flopping on the cold hard ground.
Until they lay
gasping on their sides;
gulls circling, squawking,
sniffing dogs.

You always liked categories —
the permanence of names,
everything in its place.
So life feels safe
predictable.
But when fish fall from the clear blue sky
you know anything is possible —
that the flat grey lake
could rise-up and take you in;
or the land
you took for granted
swallow you whole.

And you,
walking by yourself by the shore
might find you’re not alone
after all.
Free fish,
like manna from heaven.
And someone special, unexpected;
who will walk hand-in-hand,
gather you up,
and believe
all your fabulous tales.