She thinks she’s done
Nothing left to say
Then words like salmon
Swim into her brain
“Write me,” they cry
“We need to be heard!”
So she writes with abandon
Every single word.
Upstream swimming
Struggling for life, though
Some are better left
Engaged in cold strife.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
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Killer Fiction
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Besteesydian
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Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Upstream swimming … ha ha ha .. grappling with CSS code when you know nothing about CSS is kinda like upstream swimming I guess. 🙂
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Nice analogy.
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Thanks!
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“But I have to go to sleep!”
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Same here.
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Therein to lay their roe that another generation may spring forth in the fullness of time
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What’s that from?
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Just something that swam into my stream of consciousness while reading your fishy poem…
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Well I like it! Profound.
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Some vague analogy between spawning fish and seeds that fall on fertile ground.
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