Where the moon-fish swims


sturgeon moon1

Amid the scudding shoals of cloud

that fish-flock in the sea of night,

glinting silver grey in half-light,

through the boughs where sleeping birds crowd,


with each hopeful falling star wish,

caught among the waving tree fronds,

in the rounds of midnight carp ponds,

swims the moon as sturgeon god-fish.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

33 thoughts on “Where the moon-fish swims”

  1. These are very similar to my thoughts when the moon 2 nights ago produced similar photos. We’ll see how it ends up poetically for me—probably not that different. (K)

      1. Changeable, never the same two days running, inconsistent and unpredictable. Unlike the sun that rises and sets regular as clockwork. You can imagine it, can’t you?

  2. Moonlight makes a “fish-flock” out of clouds. And the fish are silver, as fish often are in life and as special characters in stories. The image has a number of tones of silver, silver-white. And there’s the beam that reaches out to draw us in.

    1. Last night was magical. The sky was full of fish and stars shining between them, and when we sent out for our walk, the trees along the stream were full of owls, male and female tawny owls having a real ding-dong. When we walked down to the little bridge we found that the barrage on the stream had either been lifted or sprung a leak because the water was racing along like a spring flood. We could hear it fifty yards away. The level is almost down to its usual summer trickle this morning but you can see the level it rose to in the night, almost to flooding level. The trees are grateful. Maybe the owls were too, just partying.

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