Fishing

Torsioned silvered tails 
Thronged with thoughts, emerging from 
The periphery, from blinking to dreaming, 
Whipped, now here, now there, sideward
Over coffee and emails, intersecting,
In sun-glinted depths, prismed, 
Lit like glass, smashed in slow motion, 
A thousand urgent purposes ungrasped.
I am the foolish fisher, lost on the ocean; 
The sun sets and here sit I, still, vast 
Ambitions mercurial, dreamt tales unsung, 
Flash past me and disappear. 

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