SPOTLIGHT: Motherfisher:  A haiku-story of grieving in the time of COVID by Theodore George




How do those fish feel?
Is it an urge or longing
For origin grounds?



Is what makes them run
Perhaps rather anger at
The meager time left




The locks were alive
With hope-filled travelers
This stream is empty




Autopilot now
The hum of folding waters
Pilgrim hears progress




Empty and alone
This salmon takes time to think
What is this all for?




Under the full moon
Shafts of light refract and dance
Salmon wants Potlatch





At the hatchery
Some flop against the ladder
While others wallow




At the hatchery
One pilgrim jumps the ladder
Onlookers applaud




The hatchery is
One thing but the older haunts
Are a thing apart





Remote spawning ground
It must be a pristine place
How can they find it?




How to reach first grounds
People of the Large Lake
Might still remember




But where to search now?
Past Kirkland and Bothell
And Issaquah too



Perhaps in Gold Bar
In Carnation or Snoqualmie
I will never know

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