Minnow

Small and dangerousless,
With cobalt finless dorsal that fades to Honolulu blue
And white belly with coral pink under chin,
The plastic minnow swims through shallow water,
Wide, yellow eyes, a spot of black,
Unblinking gaze through murk
As spoon under lip moves body side to side
While fisherman spools thread
With hand on fishing rod crank,
Standing still upon a dock by quiet lake.

Tool of illusion,
Tiny, delicate, demure,
In open water feigning death,
Injury, easy prey,
Dangling hooks under her body,
Two sets in clusters of three,
Sharp, like thorns darkly hidden beneath shadow cast
In the emptiness of space
As light from the sun is reflected brilliantly,
Dazzlingly from her shining, hollow shell and sparkling eyes.

What pulls you, minnow?
Wide-mouthed monster will eat you in one gulp,
Swallowing deeply, full-throated,
And in the belly of that leviathan,
Who waited beneath moss and weed,
Hiding from the purview of the sun,
Resting in darkness and hunger,
Did pounce and swallow you deep in his belly,
Where your hooks were set in his gut,
Ripping the bowels from inside out.

The fisherman firmed his will and pulled the monster
Up from the abyss, exposing it to the light of the sun,
Where it could be considered, rightfully,
Known for what it is,
Camouflage revealed,
Black on top, striped and green beside,
Sharp spined,
White and soft bellied,
Helpless in the hands of the master of reels,
Though it thrashes against his strong grip.

The wound is deep.
The striped bass will not recover.
But the fisher will have his minnow out,
Unmindful of the fish.
Tossed back into the lake,
Grendel will return to his watery lair,
Vomiting blood, sinking to the nest where he was born,
Hoping not to float, belly up,
Swallowing rocks to hide himself in hell.

What young, strong bass will regard you, now,
Nibbling at your dark hooks?
Will he swallow so deeply,
Or will you only cut his chin?
Considered by the fisherman only for a moment in the sun,
Who will dip him in the water,
Holding thumb and finger upon his lower lip,
Swaying him side to side,
The waters of life moving across red gills,
Offering breath to revive him from certain death.

The fish will return to his brothers,
Spawning thousands of eggs for thousands of generations,
Swimming cautiously in open water beneath the full light of the sun
That shines even to the bottom of the muddy floor of the shallow pond,
Where he will learn, wisely,
To ignore hunger,
To move slowly,
To eat gently,
And to know the difference between the taste of plastic and brass
And that of body and blood.