Catch of the Day

They sink into themselves like dead fish,
flushed down and bid farewell.

Till we meet again, old friend,
you’ll join a cemetery full of other dead fish,

their souls sucked down that giant whirlpool,
spinning, spinning, with such grace

but what no one knows is that
they will never reach the bottom.

They linger in air, those little souls,
spinning, spinning, with no end in sight.

They say the heads of the fish
are the first to go

as the bodies are cast into the sea,
floating forever in unending depths of blue.

Somewhere amongst the souls is me,
caught in the place where the fish go before they die,

where you can stick your hand into the sea
and feel salt enter open wounds.

There was a time I didn’t recognize my reflection in the waves
I didn’t know if I was a fish or a ghost,

It was the first time I saw water
and knew what it was like to drown.

The next time you see me, please, pull me back to shore,
tug on the line as soon as you feel me bite.