Fish-Eyed

Fish-Eyed

He dreamed of fish, silver, slippery, eager-mouthed at depth
Of cod, of pollock, rippled silhouettes across a ship-wrecked deck
The bait, line-cast, its plummet checked by thumb on reel
Until the gentle knock, sensed, polished hook on tarnished steel.

Sea-salted air, a mackerel sky, the swell, the rock'n roll of hull
A silent prayer to Neptune and Poseidon, the pregnant lull
Time bends, curved as the horizon, minutes stretched fish-eyed
Until the subtle tug, the strike, the catch, a dream realised.