A Lasting Supper

A Lasting Supper

Long, silent hours
grasped a blank page
flooding like a riverbed
with thoughts that cannot find words.

A single trout
hides beneath a bank
breathing
while the water attempts
to push it from its place—
it remains unmoved

until overhead
the hawk spreads its
wings, stretching out
its talons…

The fish dashes
into greater depths…
the bird rises
succumbing to
a morsel
within reach—
then gone.

Quiet…
all is hushed.
A certain melancholy
fills the stanzas
my mind creates…

I Am the trout,
the hawk
and yes, the
water flowing
in the riverbed.

I taste what is before me
until it is gone.
I’m left empty
my hunger satisfied—
a “lasting” supper.

0 replies

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.