Unhooked [sonnet]

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It’s well-known how a fish’s mouth gets hooked
while scavenging for food in ways down deep.
A barb or two (a piece of metal crook’d);
the bait a morsel made of something cheap.
One does not have to be a wriggling fish;
it’s said that even humans can get caught.
To be reeled in is not what they would wish:
Conceding all and ending up with naught!
But this is not as hopeless as it seems
and does not make me yet forsake the depths.
There still remains a landscape in my dreams
wherein my feet descend down watery steps.
Despite the fact those barbs then did prevail
though I was drowned I lived to tell the tale.


© 2012, Alan Morrison

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