Silver Fleeting Fish
They are on the run.
A kaleidoscope of colour
Refracted by the sun
Pierces through clear waters
Silver fleeting fish are on the run.
They dart and fly towards the sky
The deadly chase is on
Herded for the dolphin’s food
In a split second, they are gone.
As I swim the spectacle
appears before my eyes
A split moment of madness
The fish they call small fry.
Underneath the surface
Far beyond my sight
The race is on it never ends
Each day and through the night.
Hunting is their habit
The way they stay alive
The series of the food chain
Determines which fish survive.
I wander and I ponder
Purchases to suit my appetite
Down the aisles there are miles
Of temptation and delight.
I choose to fish for a dish
Salmon satisfies my eyes
And dispel the details
Of the poor fish’s demise.
Sparkling like silver diamonds
The fish are on the run
Whilst I swim for satisfaction
In the silver morning sun.
©
David Rudder
2023
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