The Fish Bones Poem by RIC BASTASA

the door is high on the mountain
if a fish swims its way it is more probable that
its fins are torn before it even reached one of the banks
of the river
below the feet of grassy lands

the old wise man once tells the story of the
great fish who made it there flying with the power
of a borrowed wing
a friend to the winds
humble to the reeds
and the fish as soon as its gills become adopted
to the hazards of mountain peaks

suddenly turn into a dragon
heir to the thrown of the volcanic kingdom
how it has learned to breath fire
and spit embers
how it has grown leather like wings
and sharp scalpel nails
is a legend

that old men always want to tell to their grandchildren
with nothing in mind that they shall become great

(and never like them who have succumbed
as mere fish bone thrown into infamous pits)