The bluffs near Shepard Road were steep, nearly
Worn away, over time, by the flooded
Sweep of the river. Minnow pools survived
Those years, there by the edge of the city
Near the cliffs. My dad took us to see
This odd place on Saturdays, this fish-filled
World where quick scales flashed in shallow-sided
Ponds, where slip gills and gray fins were simply
Too small to count. But we loved the bodies
Of the fish beyond what could love us, their
Small silver lives moving in slight rises
Beneath the water. And we mattered, there
Above the hatching lights, my dad’s dark eyes
So full, so watchful along the river.
Photo courtesy Cambelina/Flickr Creative Commons. Visit Cambelina's photostream on Flickr.