Poems1 Flashcards
He didn’t fight. He hadn’t fought at all.
Bishop; The Fish
I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat
Bishop; The Fish
He hung a grunting weight, battered and venerable and homely.
Bishop; The Fish
Here and there his brown skin hung in strips like ancient wall-paper
Bishop; The Fish
Shapes like full-blown roses stained and lost through age.
Bishop; The Fish
He was speckled with barnacles,
Fine rosettes of lime,
And infested
With tiny White Sea-lice
Bishop; The Fish
While his gills were breathing in
The terrible oxygen
-The frightening gills,
Bishop; The Fish
I thought of the course white flesh
Packed in like feathers
Bishop; The Fish
The big bones and the little bones,
The dramatic reds and blacks
Bishop; The Fish
I looked into his eyes.
Which were far larger than mine
But shallower, and yellowed
Bishop; the Fish
With tarnished tinfoil
Seen through the lenses
Of old scratched isinglass.
Bishop; The Fish
They shifted a little, but not
To return my stare.
Bishop; The Fish
It was more like the tipping of an object toward the light.
Bishop; The Fish
I admired his sullen face,
The mechanism of his jaw,
And then I saw
That from his lower lip
Bishop; the Fish
A green line, frayed at the end
Where he broke it, two heavier lines,
Bishop; The Fish
Like medals with their ribbons
Frayed and wavering,
A five-haired beard of wisdom
Bishop; The Fish
I stared and stared
And victory filled up
The little rented boat,
Bishop; The Fish
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take
Frost; After Apple Picking