Sockeye

A dimpled swirl breaks the placidity
of the elbow of the stream
where the tumult and the tempest
the temptation and turbulence
find rest and repose
in the bosom of the meme.

Deep want.
Focused foray
into heaving
into having
into
rhythmic
pulse
reach
haul
lure.

Take.
Taken the fly
swallowed the bait
the swirl reemerges
as a splashing
as a thrashing
red gills
like red rubies
pumping
darkening
in the throes of living
dying
for a hunger.

Hook jawed
played out
hard fought
tailed and
brought
into possession,
the crimson flame dims
and its embers fade
by the moment.

You've had it.
It was reddest in the having
in the taking.
Less vivid now in the had and took
harpooned
by a barbless hook.