Selected Poems

A long fish appeared in the shallow creek
Behind the house, in woods hemmed in
By cornfield, by an apple orchard. An oxbow,
Unfinished oxbow, almost made an island in the water.

From the island in the water we stalked the slick length
Of the carp as it pushed up and downstream with its tail,
We chased it back and forth, muddying the creek
As if the fish were the classmate we liked least.

Our rushing into the water, such a show:
The cold biting against our unshod feet, our shins—
But there again the undulating flank would draw us on,
Something else took over. It pitched between

Our positions, we reached in and grasped at water.
The carp would not tire, no matter our persistence.
We were dogged, scowling, angry with each other.
Eventually, we knew, we had to let it go.