PIKE, Robert Beveridge

by Robert Beveridge

Here was a man who loved his work;
the scaling of fish, the draw
of the blade over flesh, arcs
of scale beneath light, a hundred
tiny rainbows from a shad,
a thousand from a trout.

Halibut: endless.

At home, he peels carrots,
eggplant, bitter melon.
Only vegetables; he has never
consumed a fish.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s