Mask on,
Breath held tight,
Gliding through blue depths,
Shadowed shapes beneath the surface,
Hunter.
Spear poised,
Muscles tense,
Fins stir gentle currents,
Eyes lock on fleeting silver scales,
Aim true.
Thrust,
Water shatters,
A flash, a struggle,
The ocean yields its fleeting prize,
Victory.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: March 30th, 2026 08:33
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about the sport of spearfishing
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Sports Poetry.
Offline)
Comments2
Matthew, this hits clean…there’s a tight, controlled intensity in it that builds with each section. It feels focused from start to finish. Strong piece. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Spear hunting the primitive made water sport but where I live better get them out of the water fast if you don't want to be robbed by a shark.
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