Catching a Fish

The fish rises sparkling . . .

from the darkest deep,
where a little stone prince
sleeps beneath the kelp,
where the gold ducats
in the gilded chest
lie well secured
beneath gray mussels;
where at evening
the mermaid may sing
to and about people,
where the bronzed eel
amid carcasses glides.

The strange fish
rises sparkling,
blinks at the light of day
which never was his light,
then slips from my hand
and dives back into the deep,
where the little stone prince
already is summoning him.