1 May 2012
Was I four then? Crying in a boat off Borth day away with Mum and Dad
Sea salt’s sharp taste quicker, quicker rocked the sides wood creaking with pitch and toss
We caught a fish, flapping glass eyes panic black Dad pummeled it with his oar
It lay quite still congealed blood around the gills mouth gaping wide
Back on land: photo of me holding fish, mouth grinning stood with Mum
Now, on the beach staring out to where we were where breaking waves trip on rocks
just past that point
wishing that I had more days in fishing boats with Mum and Dad
J. x
You Shall Have A Fishy • Opuss № I