Lost

Ponder the fisher
the earnest fisher on the main alone
worn at the helm
forlorn and weeping
trailing unshipped oars

She holds The Sea Book
but her eyes are not the color of the sea.
there is no prize.
a frayed line flies and tells
in the sifting breeze

The great spent wish,
barb set  in bony head,
drifts back to its unblinking
small fry dream

7 responses to this post.

  1. Did you read my dream from last night, or is this just a coincidence?

    Reply

  2. coincidence. I’m about to go see how startling..

    Reply

  3. do not find a dream to read. This is from a dream I had a 2-3 weeks ago..

    Reply

  4. I’ll send it to you.

    Reply

    • “I dreamt of a huge pike hiding in the shadows; my dead grandfather waded into the lake, caught it with his bare hands, and held it out to me.” Later I wrote to a friend, “My dreams about seeing things in or above the surface of the lake are always significant. I don’t know yet what this one means, but I think it has something to do with discovering something important to my life (perhaps a spiritual something – re: the fish) hidden in the shallows – right in front of me – when I was looking earlier, out further. Before the incident related here, I said to my grandfather (who had somehow come back, and I was showing him that things were all right at the lake, on the shoreline where he and I used to walk and fish), “The lake is all right. I haven’t seen very many big fish lately though.” Then I looked and saw a small pickerel or pike, near the shore where we often used to see them, and pointed it out to him. He said, “Let’s get it!”and immediately waded in while I watched; this all happened very fast. When he put his arms into the water and withdrew them, the fish had become much larger. He held it out, stretching toward me, and tried to toss it onto the bank, but it fell back into the water. He caught it a second time, and then I woke up! I’ll probably talk to a friend who is a Jungian analyst about this one; he’s helped me before with these dreams.”

      Reply

      • Besides the anguished angler in the poem (a great elaboration on a single moment and vision of sorrow) my dream was of being in charge of a half dozen dumpsters which had been placed on the ice of a frozen lake to serve an ice fishing “derby”. I failed to anticipate a thaw, the ice went out, and all the dumpsters sank to the bottom of the lake. My childhood buddy Mike Tomaselli, a consistent companion in my dreams, was then helping me try to attach chains to them and drag them to shore. In the next moment I was wading in the shallows removing tarps which were covering the lake bottom. lol….good luck with your analysis….I did not actually see a fish in my dream, but the work and sorrow, failure and industry aspects and emotions were very vivid. Thanks for sharing…I was at the lake after work, at Tom’s. Warm outside, cold indoors….we were pretty well spared by the frost a couple nights ago….looks like the lilacs will bloom this year, after totally failing last year. Saw your dad at the diner a week or more ago…he was good.

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