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More poems by Mary OliverMary Oliver | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Mary OliverBooks by Mary Oliver

The Fish

Mary Oliver

 
The first fish
I ever caught
would not lie down
quiet in the pail
but flailed and sucked
at the burning
amazement of the air
and died
in the slow pouring off
of rainbows. Later
I opened his body and separated
the flesh from the bones
and ate him. Now the sea
is in me: I am the fish, the fish
glitters in me; we are
risen, tangled together, certain to fall
back to the sea. Out of pain,
and pain, and more pain
we feed this feverish plot, we are nourished
by the mystery. 

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 13 Dec 2018 8:21 AM | Viewed: 8066 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3181/ | Viewed on 13 December 2018.
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