Mackerel

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.

Navy-topped, tin-headed, 

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.