Page 21 - Contrast1988Spring

Sonnet: to a Fish

o fish, who swimst towards thy destin'd mate

Pray stay a moment, while I put to thee
A simple test, beneath this shady tree--
I'll hurry as I see 'tis getting late:
Thy hunger now to spawn I know is.great,
An innate urge of thine; but then with me
As I have not yet eaten, I hope to see
Thy passion grow towards my line and bait.

o fish, I am so sad at thy bad luck,

At such an ill-timed death as thou hast met--
I'll make this scene as easy as I can--
But thou hast got thyself to this hook stuck;
This year thou wilt not spawn, mate, nor beget--
Alas! Now hie thee to my frying pan.

Maryann Rada

Contrast Spring 1988 17