Ode to Bluegills
Though you are small,
you are mighty,
fighting like a fish ten times your size.
You make us cheer
and call for the photographer.
And you make us cringe
when we remove the hook.
Why must you swallow the fly
so far down it takes magic to extract it?
Never mind.
All turns out well for you in the end,
and you swim away gladly.
We thank you for your spiky dorsal fin,
the distinctive black beauty spot near your gill,
your iridescent scales.
We thank you for the tug on our line,
reminding us that we are connected --
the two of us; all of us.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2017
Laura has this week's Poetry Friday roundup at Writing the World for Kids.
Have a great weekend, Mary Lee!
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem and joyous pics. Thanks for the lift!
ReplyDeleteMary Lee, my father took me fishing once, and we caught nothing. We cast our lines, we squinted at the sunny lake, and we sat side by side. No fish story could be sweeter to me. Then I saw your pictures, and I had to laugh, especially at your descriptions. Love the poem and pix. A treat.
ReplyDeleteWe give thanks for the small and mighty who remind us of our connections! So glad you came away with a poem as well as all the memories :-)
ReplyDeleteContrasts noted, Mary Lee:
ReplyDeleteYou make us cheer
and call for the photographer.
And you make us cringe.
Wow, Mary Lee - you are always so good at imbuing fun, "ordinary" moments with depth. Thank you. Great pix!
ReplyDeleteSuch joyous photos--they do my heart good, as does your "Ode." Your trip was a success in more ways than one!
ReplyDeleteConnecting in these ways makes a heart sing, I'm sure. Your descriptions are wonderful, Mary Lee.
ReplyDeleteGreat pic and poem, glad the bluegill is out swimming free, thanks Mary Lee!
ReplyDeleteI agree with Robyn--You have such a knack of finding the poetry in the moment. Your poem creates a tug as surely as the bluegill does. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteI have never felt that tug ... but fun to read about it. And love those smiles!
ReplyDeleteOh, Mary Lee. This brought me to tears. The truth of it. Why do we sometimes need that hook to remember our connectedness. Why do painful things have to go so deep. And what magic can we use, like friendship and poetry, to remove them. Love this. (And perhaps reading WAY too much into your poem, based on the couple of comments I'm seeing above mine. Oops.)
ReplyDeleteLaura, I say -- If you found it, it was there. Thank you for digging deeply into my words!
DeleteMary Lee, your poem is marvelous! Your last line reminds me of my last line from a poem I shared last week, A Home for Peace. "So that one of us, is all of us." Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteI hope the weekend was as wonderful as your poem!
ReplyDeleteFly fishing is one of my favorite things, although I am terrible at it. You've caught the feel perfectly with your poem.
ReplyDeleteClose reading reveals depth below the visible surface: recovery takes fighting like something ten times your size, a spiky dorsal fin, "recovered" is iridescent. Joyous and true.
ReplyDeleteWhen I go fly fishing I want to sit in a red plastic chair!
Such joyful images of wonderful in-the-water moments.
ReplyDeleteAnd such precise words storytelling in poetry. Brava!