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Toril Fisher Fine Art

 

A FISHING-PERFECT DAY IN SEPTEMBER

 

There is a loneliness

About the sea

No one as far as you can see

Only the sound of the waves

And the wind…

 

The boat broke anchor

You swam for it

I was told, “the sea

Boiled before it was over”*

 

It was September

The day warm

A fishing-perfect day

No one knew just how it happened

 

You were lost in a moment

Gobbled up in an instant

You did not return

Your life complete

 

July 12, 2018

 

*This comes from Through the Looking Glass — Lewis Carroll/ “And why the sea is boiling hot– And whether pigs have wings.”

 

31 thoughts on “A FISHING-PERFECT DAY IN SEPTEMBER/imaginary gardens with real toads”

    2. Not long after my Son died (2024), I took a writing course, from Mark Metousek, and he said, “We have to get to the place we don’t think of it as a tragedy, but rather as something that happened.” It is good to know what it is we are seeking, as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. We cannot see for the tears fill our eyes, we cannot hear for the sound of our own crying, our feelings are on edge, and our hearts are broken…how we each deal with death, is so personal.

      My Husband drowned in 1994, some days it seems so long ago, and others it seems like yesterday. Something will take me back to that day…and it is as if no days have passed since.

      We will all go one day, and if we can get to the point we don’t think of it as a tragedy, I think that is good. Though we will carry the scares of sorrow all the days of our lives. But that is what life is made of, happiness and sorrow.

      Thanks so much for your comment. I have watched myself through my writing, and I can see time does help to accept what is unacceptable. Writing has helped me to look at where I am, to be honest with myself…

      Annell Livingston 1431 Mesa Vista El Prado, New Mexico 87529 575-751-0680

      annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com

      >

      Reply

  3. There is so much sadness in your poem, Annell, which I read before I saw your comment. It is heartbreaking that you have imagined the moment and written about it so poignantly.

    Reply

  5. This piece seems so lulling, a perfect day for fishing. Then, out of the blue the anchor broke and the mate had died. I am sorry to hear this was in your life you wrote. Bless you, Annell.
    ..

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  6. I was married for 27 years to a professional fisherman, and before that grew up on an island with many fishing ports. Though I have not, thankfully, experienced this particular tragedy, I lived with the awareness that such things could and did happen.

    My fisherman husband – ex-husband by then – died on board a fishing boat, but not from drowning. Our sons wrote in the death announcement that he died ‘doing what he loved: on a boat, at sea, fishing ‘.

    How well you capture that vast loneliness of the ocean! How ironic that it was such a fishing-perfect day! I am glad you have found ways to come to terms with it … as much as one can ever come to terms.

    Reply

    1. As you know, sometimes breakups or divorce are worse than death. When someone dies, we know it is over, there will be no more discussion, end of conversation. Adjustment has to be made, but when someone is still living, we often have something more to say. Yes, since we all have to go sometime, we would hope it is doing what we love. Thanks for your response to my write. Annell Livingston 1431 Mesa Vista El Prado, New Mexico 87529 575-751-0680

      annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com

      >

      Reply

  7. Beautiful and sorrowful. In an instant, the sea claims lives, as our village was reminded last month. To lose a husband, and then a son, is a heavy thing. You have walked with such grace, Annell.

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  8. I didn’t expect that ending in the poem and then I read your comment … the way you’ve written this is so amazing… as if from a distance, yet right there…. am so sorry for your loss.

    Reply

  9. I know a woman whose husband was a waterman/lobster man off the coast of Maine. Her husband died drowing. She is always very calm and accepting of it saying, he died as he lived. there is such calm in your poem. I wonder at the heartbreak achieved to obtain it.

    Reply

    1. Dearest Toni I think you know of the heartbreak, that it takes. Thank you for your response to my write. The chasm is wide, sometimes wider than the length of our legs, so we have to “jump.” We sit in the dark, and we wait to “see.” It is life after all, and we all have our share of sorrows and happiness, The wheel keeps turning, we don’t know what life has in store for us, and no matter how great it seems, the wheel keeps turning…each moment brings us something new, fresh and unexpected. We continue to live, for those that do not.

      Annell Livingston 1431 Mesa Vista El Prado, New Mexico 87529 575-751-0680

      annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com

      >

      Reply

  12. Oh gosh this is beautiful!💜 I feel the lonliness of the ocean in your words.. the sense of both calm and regret at the end… sigh..

    Reply

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