Old Trout – a poem by Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

Old Trout 

Somehow beneath all this 
weaving under the graft and the forms 
I swim merry as a trout 
gilded by God, I gleam 
and slide away from  
the reach of Midas 
I cannot hear envelopes crammed with fear hitting the doormat 
fish do not pay bills 
(except when drachma leap unexpectedly into their open mouths 
along with hooks and sinkers)
fish only swish and let holy water 
pass over their waiting gills. 
time to breathe, and glimmer 
and let good things pool.  

Keren Dibbens-Wyatt is a chronically ill writer and artist with a passion for poetry, mysticism, story and colour. Her writing features regularly on spiritual blogs and in literary journals. Her latest book is Recital of Love (Paraclete Press, 2020). Keren lives in South East England. 

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