The Fisherman Poem by Sas Debray

Fisherman Fisherman, goes by past our fence
With peeping toes the children looks
The bucket vibrating with the fishes dance
Fresh - just taken out from the brooks

With a bow made of wood over his shoulders
And two buckets at its ends
He moves with the fishes like a rhythmic verse
Door to door, people turning heads

The fishes are hopes snatched from eternities
The bucket is a transient curse
Hopes travel from rivers to buckets and seas
Live, die, again travel reverse.

I wonder I could buy some hopes from him
And release them in my pond
Nurture them patiently and watch them swim
With ambitions ever so fond

The bigger fishes who oft together clash
In way of our planted ones
May swim to similar goals and with a splash
Scare them when there is a chance

We can try and feed but never surely can
Say all fishes will thrive and cope
Else sell them again to the Fisherman
The Eternal trader of hope