The Fisherman And The Downrunner

©02-20-2019 Allen E. Rizzi

Old and bent, he slowly walked the water

Where he had fished so many years before.

The salmon of his youth splashed sporadically

As they made their way upstream to spawn.

Peering into a quiet pool, he spied him:

The downrunner, dark with flaccid flesh

And dull eyes that looked up to his reflection.

He had lived, spawned and now was dying.

He stared and thought that they had passed

Once before on this very stream some years ago.

But of course, that was impossible.

Both man and fish had found different currents.

He was slowly crumbling away

Like burnt toast in the water.

He pitied him, the frequent foe

For he had won and now was lost.

A ripple downstream brought the hope

Of new life lightly looming.

But in the end, each rebirth

Was just an echo of a…