These fish have no eyes
these silver fish that come to me in dreams,
scattering their roe and milt
in the pockets of my brain.
But there's one that comes--
heavy, scarred, silent like the rest,
that simply holds against the current,
closing its dark mouth against
the current, closing and opening
as it holds to the current.
Back to Raymond Clevie Carver
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Comments1Just came across this poem, and honestly, I wasn't a huge fan. The imagery of the silver fish without eyes was interesting, but the overall meaning felt a bit unclear to me. It just didn't really resonate, you know?