Whale
I sneak upon you, surprising you
from beneath your feet.
From not knowing to knowing,
I grow enormous and fill your field of view,
become your entire world for a few moments.
I press on away from you towards newness,
fading slowly away into the blue and into
the recesses of your mind,
an image of something that was,
but that is no longer so impressive.
I long to rekindle the wonder you felt
the first time I allowed you to see,
but the second time I swim by
you’ll think you remembered me larger.
Brian Fuchs, “Whale” from Scissortail Quarterly #4 (Scissortail Press, August 2021)
Written 29 March 2008 in Anchorage, Alaska.
Featured Image Art: vintage illustration of a whale
___________
Original version:
the poem with no title that is not titled “untitled”
[brian dale]
I’m not a big fish in a small pond,
I’m not a small fish in the ocean,
I’m not a fish at all.
I sneak upon you, surprising you
from beanth your feet.
As you get to know me,
get to see who I really am,
you might be filled with wonder and awe
and think the greatness of having met me.
As I press on away from you,
I fade away into the blue and into
the recesses of your mind,
an image of something that was,
but that is no longer so impressive.
I long to rekindle the wonder you felt
the first time I allowed you to see,
but the second time I swim by
you’ll think you remembered me larger.
3.29.2008
This is a fragment, I believe. I am playing with it and tweaking it and making it more user-friendly. An update should be available for your computer soon.
I don’t really know if I need to add something to it. Obviously, it is a whale, but does it need that spelled out for anyone? And what sort of title will it need? Oh, the dilemmas. I feel like it is almost trite and a tad too self-deprecating. It was never meant to seem so sad, but sometimes I can only seem to wrap up my thoughts by ending on a bitter note. I’m working on that. Thoughts? Suggestions? Please, rip this one apart if it needs it.