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.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2017
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