The fisherman
The fisherman
Shivering from the sea,
I squat and watch
as the line trembles
then arches,
Tense.
His dog nuzzles my hands and I am grateful for the warmth
as we watch the line cut
an arc towards us.
Breaking the waves
Solid muscle thrashing,
Flipping,
Turning inwards on itself
tricked by the
glittering
metal
lure.
Mackerel
is announced.
Don’t watch this bit
He says,
I do,
The first strike of stone
on head
on stone
is not enough,
It takes two before stillness.
Do you eat it
I ask
My wife does
He says.
Somehow this makes it better
That this fish is not wasted
The cloud of fish I swam with just the other day;
Whitebait,
chased by mackerel
chased by bass and
Hooked by man
Then eaten for tea.
He catches a second easily
and I have taken my leave before a third
(Will he catch a third?)
Because I want to believe
That this is not just some adrenalin hook
where he will take too much
where guts and scales
will go to waste,
I want to believe that he knows the limit to his needs
and can gratefully bow to fish and sea
and return home satisfied
with
no more
than
enough
If you enjoyed reading this please share it with friends. You might also be interested in talking to me about coaching , or maybe try some of my online courses (some are free), or treat yourself to a climate protecting pamper with vegan friendly, organic Tropic which supports the planting of forests and education in deprived areas.
Thanks for being here.
Julie
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