I’ll plaice a fish in your lap

Photo: © C. Shade. All rights reserved.

For my son, suffering from depression during Covid-19 self-isolation

I’ll plaice a fish in your lap.
I’ll chart a map on your rudder.
I’ll sketch another sharp fin which points
you in a direction towards light.
I’m good at creating a boat
from nothing…

I’ll plaice a fish in your lap—
but I’m crap at fishing.
Does that mean you’ll starve?
You won’t starve.
I’ll fetch fish from Buy The Sea
when they re-
open.

[bonefish so you don’t count
your own ribs. lungfish so you can
breathe. catfish to pet without
allergies. flatfish for when you’re
down. clownfish for when you’re
up. cuttlefish to help you scuttle
anxiety. jellyfish to phosphoresce
the aching darkness. angelfish
to grow your own wings.]

To show you how far a mother’s
crafty courage will tender,
I’ll sketch you a boat; an image
of mast & prow, demonstrating
the path to sustenance
is only to know how
to envisage
fish.

Decades ago, autodidact/bloody-minded optimist kerry rawlinson gravitated from sunny Zambian skies to solid Canadian soil. Now she stalks Literature & Art’s Muses around the Okanagan Valley, still barefoot, her patient husband ensuring she eats. Recent achievements: Edinburgh International FlashFiction Award, FishPoetryPrize, BestCanadianPoetry 2019 ( Notable). Newer acceptances: Banshee Press, drunk monkeys, Queen Mob’s Teahouse, Foreign LiteraryJournal, AcrossTheMargin, PaintedBride, TupeloQuarterly, Pedestal, ArcPoetry, amongst others. Visit her on Tumblr. Tweet @kerryrawli

Appears In

Issue 10.1

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