Tuesday, March 2, 2010

2 women fishing

you never see two women fishing

it makes no difference where you go

in this world,

the job of fishing

is a man's.

you might see three men fishing;

or two men and one woman

--maybe even a man, a woman and one gull

stretching out its wings, sitting one-legged,

patiently watching for signs of life

on the igneous rock at Depoe Bay.

tonight at dusk i saw a woman

casting out her line into a tumultuous sea

steely grey and frothy white with winter horses.

upon glimpsing her

my heart began singing with possibility:

stereotypes crashing hard, broken.

the gull took to the air

with its usual cry of mourning,

fighting a salty gust from the spitting clap of a breaking wave.

the fisherwoman staggered in her boots

then leaned back, reeling in her line

just as another form appeared

from behind the frozen lava:

the (unexpected, disappointing) boyfriend figure

fully outfitted beyond reach of imagination,

head down-turned, ready to call it a night.

meanwhile the woman and the gull

finished the story

together in the disappearing sky.

1 comment:

toptobottom said...
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