Sheeping With the Fishes

SHEEPING WITH THE FISHES Mouth open, closed Dull eyes not yet asleep Ears out like small wings Under woolly hair. His shining silvery jacket’s Sharp pointed safety pins Like hooks, wet looking, smooth As in the deep. Slowly rattle as points creep By and voice states next station And moves the fish-sheep - He stands hooked to the rail. Doors open, but still I see him swinging, swimming In a grassy field and weep For the numberless Flock going home Backs to the wind coming From the Galloway hills steep. Windows with passing crowds Underwater aquarium dream deep Inside our Moby whale while Door-mouths open and close. Endless crowd enters like sheep To the slaughter. Jonah and I await God’s miracle promised to keep When we walk out alive And escalate to the World above, home, and sleep. ………………………………………………………………… Note: Written while watching a young man dozing on the homebound evening metro-train, crowded with tired commuters.