Edward Lemond

Born To Water

How can anything born to water
Look so drowned? Your sad eye,
Half closed, sees nothing.

Your mouth, almost a smile,
Is shut forever. Your sleek
Body seems ready to slip

Once more into the deep.
Your snout rests on a rock
Embedded in the muddy banks

Of our river, where the tide
Has washed you. Your hunger
Drove you into the invisible net,

Where you struggled to break free
But failed, as long ago Agamemnon,
Born to water, found himself covered

In a net with no holes for the neck
Or arms, suffered blows to the heart
And lungs, and drowned in his own blood.

Topic(s) of this poem: death

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Form: Terza Rima


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