The Fishermen Have Gone – Writing Prompt #167

The fishermen have gone
The seas bereft of life
A strange deceptive tranquility covers everything
We are but ghosts
Wandering through darkened streets
Not a sound from stamping feet
Chained to this memory of life
When even the essence is lost

Signposts of our travels
From one pointless place to another
Tease us with the thought
One road will lead us out
But it’s just a trick
A roundabout
Leading back to stasis

What is it to finally know?
In death there is a wider view
But only of banality
What once was sought is now too close
Replaying like a litany
And wisdom is too common
Like a taste upon my tongue
Gone rancid in the midday sun

You’ll search high and low
To no avail
Without fingertips we cannot touch
I do not miss that very much
But the burgeoning of hope
The thought that something
Is left to catch
To raise us up
Is just forlorn
The fishermen have gone


© Helen Valentina 2016

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.
This entry was posted in Air, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Fishermen Have Gone – Writing Prompt #167

  1. I am so happy to see you at prompt Helen! I love the tone of this piece and that third stanza superb!

  2. Oliana says:

    What a thought provoking piece you have written. Each stanza builds up for the next and each touches the reader even more. The two last stanzas truly moved me.

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