It was once believed that a leaf falling  into water produced  a fish

Where they really come from is the sea

following the path in the water, left in parts per billion

outswimming things with teeth into the place where the marsh opens itself to the river and calls them into the stream

up the ladder

live silver flashing from the side

dark slips of shadow from above

billets of mercury 

heavy on the front end like an “ale wife”

the townspeople thought they knew them well enough 

that they could help them home

a memory of when the harvest mattered enough to

net them and carry them up to the next pool

they are best left alone

only they know the way in

to live in soft, dark pond weeds again

to be reborn in the spawn and return to the sea in secret

falling from our branch into the stream

floating down to the sea

which of us knows?

what is it we know?

that we all know and have always known

the way back 

 

This photo is of the old iron ore smelting plant on Iron Hill Road in East Weymouth. Massachusetts. The herring ladder runs right past the side, up to a tunnel under a street, and eventually to Whitmans pond where the herring spawn. The building housed the Herring Run Pottery, owned and operated by my father from the late 50’s to the early 70’s.