Between my fingers—
a line,
fine as a thread of glass,
cast forth.
The sea is indistinguishable from the sky,
a thin veil of grey light
spreading,
until the world seemed to float
unanchored.
The bait is sent
into the stinging glow of the sun,
into the fresh, salt-laden blue,
away from the clingy, fishy humidity,
radiating from the market
away from the shoal of mackerel,
eddying about the dinghy
Thus the hand learns—
to refuse the solidity of matters,
to let go of the proximity,
and rather
follow
what
melts
as if suspended,
trembling on the verge,
uncertain,
whether to form
or dissolve.
A tightening, a slight disturbance comes,
the rod bows and loosens,
and my back bends with it
not to hold,
but to send,
further and further
into that
incessant flux.
Thus I cast again—
Jayden Oh ’28 was recognized with a Lamont Younger Poets Prize for this poem in May. The prize honors poems of exceptional promise written by preps and lowers, and commemorates the dedication of English Instructor Rex McGuinn to student poetry at Exeter.
