David Wakeling

AVARICE.

 

 

Covetous fisherman, drag in their weary nets,

Sorry, vile and forlorn; sacking the scornful sea.

Childish evil smiles steal as much as nature lets,

As bulging zealous fish flutter at this ambiguity.

Worn-out lesser heroes both of them, still competing,

Both coward-like thieves who grovel for their lives,

The frightened fish leap and fall and die, quivering,

In final protest they gasp for what air denies.

The valiant men, bent-shouldered, ever trumpeting,

Laugh and draw close their lifeless victory,

And rush to celebrate the promise of a new morning,

While doubts, in some hearts, arise from this misery.

For the taste of mortality, like bone, lies wedged in the throat