Mackerel read the runic shapes
etched upon the sides of each other,
interpretations of psychic bind them
to fast and slow to fleet their shoal,
their fish kingdom.
this community, taut until
they are forced to evade the sprawled
gapes of nets and whales and
other monsters, snaps of beasts
that can flinch a school from unknowing
to frantic, that can unsettle their rhythm
of pulses of new moon tails
within their own black amassing.
And unmourned, some will be lost
to preserve the sanctity of the many -
this does not escape my anxiety,
invites its own comparisons
even when the sky wears a swathe
of mackerel clouds,
promises calmer weather,
and in the aftermath mollifies
with shafts of light that spear the water.
Image is from Wikicommons and in the public domain.