Fish Pond At 60 Poem by William F Dougherty
Fish Pond At 60
Year by year the pond
puckered into marsh,
stifling the orange carp
that hung within its reeds
feints of light
in silt-drab water,
glints long wasted
bleached to spines
cling to mud banks
slick as frog skin.
Sunk among cattails,
bowsprit of odysseys,
a boy's skiff decays
while the last pulse of pond
seeps away from itself like a stain.
Clear picture. Quite a transformation of the ole pond. Interesting to observe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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11/3/2025 6:01:29 PM # 1.0.0
I started out by reading the Cancer Sonnets and then read this. I like your simplicity and descriptive imagery here. No need for iambic pentameter or complexity. The message, the imagery is quite clear.... Unlike your aging pond.