Sunlit
sea,
the drift of fronds,
and banners
of bobbing boats--
the seaside
of any day--
except: this
cold, bright body
of the fish
upon the planks,
the coil and
crescent of flesh
extending just into death.
Even so,
in the distant,
inland sea,
a shadow runs,
radiant,
rude in the rock:
fossil fish,
fissure of bone
forever.
It is perhaps
the same thing,
an agony
twice perceived.
It is
most like
wind on waves--
mere commotion,
mute and mean,
perceptible--
that is all.
N. Scott Momaday,
Strong Measures: Contemporary American
Poetry
in Traditional Forms