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George Penniman Midnight FishingCandles set alight by the luminous moon Gently rocking in a dark sea The row boat tips and turns From the pulse of the small waves Kept alive by a gentle wind The tip of the pole bends Pulled down and away By a terrified captive The trees now sway In a faint rustle Brought to life by nature’s breath As the glassy surface shatters Pieces fly up and about And the reel ceases to turn From one prison to another The metal floor now echoes With the sound of flapping fins The prisoner is held over the depths of liberation When his freedom becomes evident, he thrashes A free bullet speeds away Grass and reeds beam from the shore Rocked awake by the hands of the waves They beckon to me under the lit path of the moon |
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]
Copyright © 2002-2010 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2010 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.