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Leda Goes Fishing
A photograph of a woman
in Greek captain's hat
white sandals—
holding a fish by the tail.
A fish as tall as herself;
without the sandals, maybe taller.
They've just had their first and only
date. There are rags against the railing,
a tin gut bucket in the porch corner.
Leda looks so happy.
The fish looks so happy,
snout brushing the porch-planks just so,
pen and paper.
They stand like this
until the picture is taken.
And then they tango,
Leda pretending this gorgeous creature
is Gene Kelley. But more to the point,
it's a fish. And hers.
Its serrated fins
against the tan backs of her legs.
She dips him.
She swings him out then in,
leans her warm forehead against his skin,
white as her hat and sandals.
And in the afternoon swelter,
cool to the touch,
the first loosenings
of imagination.
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