Typically, salmon are anadromous: they are born in fresh water, migrate to the ocean, then return to fresh water to reproduce. However, there are populations of several species that are restricted to fresh water through their life. Folklore has it that the fish return to the exact spot where they were born to spawn; tracking studies have shown this to be true, and this homing behavior has been shown to depend on olfactory memory.
Over at Three Word Wednesday (click on the link to see the other offerings) Thom offered
Dull; adjective: Lacking interest or excitement; lacking brightness, vividness, or sheen; (of a person) slow to understand; stupid; verb: Make or become dull or less intense.
Race; noun: A competition between runners, horses, vehicles, boats, etc., to see which is the fastest in covering a set course; each of the major divisions of humankind, having distinct physical characteristics; verb: Compete with another or others to see who is fastest at covering a set course or achieving an objective; move or progress swiftly or at full speed.
Yawn; verb: involuntarily open one's mouth wide and inhale deeply due to tiredness or boredom; noun: A reflex act of opening one's mouth wide and inhaling deeply due to tiredness or boredom.
This poem insisted on going its own way. I did not write this one. It wrote itself. Every significant word and frame choice of mine was scratched and replaced, some more than once before I was permitted to complete the work.
Why I Wrote This Poem
Words are fish. Now I
need to learn to surf your love.
Words migrate upstream.
They race against time
and then with wild leaps they flash
past dull stone meaning
passing into realms
of verve and élan and weave
all bright around me.
Then even my yawn
turns incandescent within
your love’s tidal bore.
September 21, 2011 12:48 PM