Fingerling Pond
Tim Tomlinson
On the algae-green surface
of the fingerling pond, the rheumy eye
of a dead fish stares
at the sun. In the neighboring field
a man shin deep in mud follows
the slow footsteps of a carabao.
A jeep stops on the nearby bridge
and a Canadian couple with cameras zoom
in on the dead fish
and drive off.
The barefoot man drops his plow.
He lifts the fish by its tail
and tosses it into the weeds on the berm
where a rib-skinny dog gives it a second thought,
not a third.
On the algae-green surface
of the fingerling pond, the rheumy eye
of a dead fish stares
at the sun. In the neighboring field
a man shin deep in mud follows
the slow footsteps of a carabao.
A jeep stops on the nearby bridge
and a Canadian couple with cameras zoom
in on the dead fish
and drive off.
The barefoot man drops his plow.
He lifts the fish by its tail
and tosses it into the weeds on the berm
where a rib-skinny dog gives it a second thought,
not a third.