Through the water they glide,
an immense mosaic of millions of silvery fish
on their migratory run,
obeying a call immemorial,
a mystery of aquatic unison
choreographed by instinct primordial.
a grainy smoke cloud
in which light drowns.
like an enormous bedspread
being shaken out in slow motion
by an invisible giant.
They turn into a mesh,
glistening, spinning around, tightening,
a net woven with fish for catching water.
a submerged galaxy
unspooling into a braided rope
in a blue universe.
and silver ripples across the shoal,
a wheat field touched by a soaking breeze.
Then they move on,
like underwater rain falling sideways.
Before the predators get to them,
my eyes are feasting.
Copyright © Bernard Chan | Year Posted 2017