Blue Fish

Lay my head back,
on the grey checkered dock.
Misplaced leaves
crumble under my soft hand...

then quiet.

Mr. Dragonfly lounges on my naked knee,
I squint at him,
dark and grainy
like and old photograph, or a aged tattoo.

I swear he smiles at least once,
before falling back to wind.
My dear friend,
How I will miss you.

I drop a creamy ankle
into Mead Lake
Dreaming of nothing,
in the big Nowhere.

Breathing in the solarstorm,
I fall back lonely to the wind.
Free in the world.
Free in skin.

Above me,
In an old shaggy Birch
A Whipperwhil cries something,
Ponders something,
Something I will never understand.
Something only to be appreciated,
not questioned.

But, in my mind
I will question his aweful tone,
Everyday ...

Everyday...
Of my waking walking life.

Across the smooth crumbling wake,
I am driven home hard.
Just flopping and dying.

Diving into the navy belly
I become,
Blue Fish.