Flies fly
Men Fish
Fish swim
The freest woman I’d ever known
Once had the fish dream.
No net to hold him
A sight to behold
Diligent in both high tide and low
No bear, no eagle his worth
Swimming waves of amber grain,
Majestic purple mountains
Coasting seas aglow by sun or moonlight
Back down the mighty Mississippi
‘Tis of me, ‘tis of thee
And meeting the ocean,
Why not the sky?
His fins were wings,
so why not fly?
In his wake,
A school of fish teaching all us fishers of men.
One fish, two fish,
Red fish, blue fish.