Sea change

Somewhere in the center of me is a subterranean sea. A deep, unplumbed well of dark. Unseen, but there. Its suck and swell as familiar as breath. A shadow at my periphery. Nothing that impedes or rends, just a sad, unfathomable part that shifts and sighs. Nothing you’d know about, if you knew me, but something you might just see, behind.

So, today, when I go home, I’ll turn off all the lights, pour one glass too many, stare at the grey sky and hope this spring tide recedes.

13 thoughts on “Sea change

  1. jacktonsil says:

    Jack Tonsil took one of the squirming baitfish in his bucket and hooked it though the eye. He tied the weight, secured his knots and, with the huge rod held firmly, made his way past the foaming fringe to waist high. There, he planted his feet and with a practised heave sent hook, line and sinker arching out to sea. He waded back up the beach and, after setting the drag of his heavy reel, lit a cigarette and began the wait…

  2. dolce says:

    We used to go fishing on the beach in Plett. I haven’t been for years. But you brought it back. The early mornings, the gillies, the mist on the beach, the iodine smell of the bait and rusty hooks. The tug of the tide againt the line. Thanks!

    P.S. big rod, hey?

  3. jacktonsil says:

    I’m definitely into something! Dunno the type yet but it feels like a fighter; it’s taking a lot of line… Seems like an experienced fish.

  4. dolce says:

    Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure. Tho s’probably just a big old raggie, scarred and sea weary and playing fish chicken. What will you do if you land it?

  5. jacktonsil says:

    Depends. I’ll eat it if it’s a snapper or a tunny or some other linefish… but when it comes to those raggies, I’m strictly a catch and release kinda guy. They’re smart, those fish… live and let live, that’s what I say.

  6. dolce says:

    ever wanted to just let go of the line and follow the fish in…

  7. jacktonsil says:

    and then what?

    Reminds me of some TS Eliot…

    We have lain in the chambers of the sea
    By sea girls wreathed in seaweed red and brown
    Til human voices wake us and we drown.

    You’re presupposing an experiential aspect that’s entirely foreign to me. I’m a vegetarian, hence, I’m being strictly metaphoric. So, as you might imagine, I found your comment about the rod rather forward.

  8. dolce says:

    I’m still swimming against the tide, so I was thinking more of Sylvia Plath

    With richness, hair heavier
    Than sculptured marble. They sing
    Of a world more full and clear

    Than can be. Sisters, your song
    Bears a burden too weighty
    For the whorled ear’s listening

    or Dylan Thomas

    Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
    Time held me green and dying
    Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

    But I was definitely being forward about your rod.

  9. dolce says:

    If I was being forward about your rod, how do the snapper and the tunny feel?

  10. jacktonsil says:

    Ah, D, it seems not the tide you feel but the pull of the line.
    The snapper and tunny were responses in kind from a mind
    that revels in multiplications. I, (whoever that might be)
    would, though, rather use the words of that which stands
    in stead of my simplicity, and the same would not be so unkind
    as to eat a thing so beautiful in its decision and freedom.

  11. dolce says:

    Jack, you’ve swum me in circles. Even your simplicity is baited.

  12. jacktonsil says:

    that surrender is always so disarming?

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