The Fisherman
by Chase Kim
How quickly the years pass
How swiftly time flies by:
Dutifully it marches
To desk from lullaby.
Memories so softly tinged
Hued with a certain shade
Golden light streaming through
The pond in which he wades—
Flowing beard, a little pipe,
The fisherman rules the stars.
He rests his arm on Saturn’s rings;
Props his feet on Mars.
The fisherman’s a scholar, too,
For the thread of time he yanks;
He sums, he plots, he casts his line
A theorist of the finest make.
Then time hangs there suspended,
‘Tween shore and water frozen,
He grasps the line in nimble hands
And sets the world in motion.
But far below there comes a catch,
A hook sinks deep between my lips
I’m dragged to raging waters,
The sun is gone; my world eclipsed
Confused, wounded, adrift,
I bleed into the sea.
Our years pass by with breakneck speed:
Stupid salty reality.