At Dusk, As I Urged The Fish To Bite Poem by Mark Heathcote

I remember the lake light shining
like a disk as I fished for perch or pike
at dusk, as I urged the fish to bite,
bite a spoon of shimmering bait.

I remember bats flitting and circling
like the insects, they longed to catch
and ripples left by fish that were no match
I remember Father's blunt roll-call home!

The boathouse, a sarcophagus
with its two-well-rotten doors
gaping open like-malnourished jaws
awaiting Death's ferryman back,
back to those perpetual, keepnet-shores.

I remember the rolling fog rising
about the gnarled chestnut trees
billowing out into brackish red reeds
and a slice of scaly moon leaping:
That frantic-fish pulling line from my spool.

I remember the lake light shining
in the scales of a real living ghoul
plucked out of the water, fighting
a fish - that wasn't one-bit preschool.