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Gar
My grandfather used to take me
to a meadow beside a small lake.
He'd help me bait the hook
and I'd imitate his rhythmic
casting and waiting, watching
the red bob float on the flat
water and eventually the bob
would dip and he'd reel in
the catch, usually a small perch
or a larger bass, but once
an alligator gar, six feet long,
ganoid scales hard as teeth,
eyes wild with fury,
an ancient monster
he pulled from the dark,
knowing he should kill it,
a competitor for prey,
but instead his pliers reached
into the long beak,
tore the hook loose
and grasping the tail
swung the fish in the air
and let go, the gar flying
into the water, wounded
but whole, a dangerous
unseen part of himself
living in still water |
