This is the third of the poems I wrote for the Ekphrastic challenge using this painting by Dale Patterson.
When the ocean fills with darkness, fish will fly
Into the murky sky on silver wings;
In their tender mouths the seeds of perhaps.
The spring is silent now, no birds to sing,
All fallen, and the deer have gone, though mockers said,
When the ocean fills with darkness fish will fly.
So many flew, their souvenirs all wrapped in gossamer
But in the ports no welcome banners waved, and back they fell
Into the murky sky, on silver wings.
These children, my children, may still look up and see
The dreams go flying by and take up the fading cry
In their tender mouths—the seeds of perhaps.