At the End of the Gaff
The boat floor is awash with smothering air.
The sudden sun and alien warmth are confusing,
But the flood of oxygen overwhelms us,
Twisting to breathe with boots and blood nearby.
The odd-hooked gaff hoists another fish high
And then higher. And pain there’s no need to discuss.
Fear everywhere and the hook’s strange whistling
And end in this the strangest where of anywhere.
10 May 2011