#16 Fishing


fishing 16
#16 Fishing
1994 – 17 x 20 – edition of 24 – $250


was what you loved most,
and when you spoke of it
your eyes, as blue
as any water, filled.

I remember how you talked
about the animals,
the foxes and a doe,
walking right up to you
and looking.

You told me that a wild thing
showing itself
is holy,
in the only way that you could
understand the word.

Today, I fish for you.
It is my first time
and I hear the turtles sing,
plucking the odd strings
of their instruments,
calling for one another.
Above us, eagles
consecrate the sky.

The whole day is made
out of blue
and it is shining
and I remember you telling me this
in your few words
from the bed where you didn’t belong.

You, who spent your life
beneath the sky,
lay dying
and dreaming of fishing
and telling us where we might find you
when your body
let you go.