The Whitefish from Brooklyn

by Bob Schwartz

The Whitefish from Brooklyn

The whitefish came from Brooklyn
(of course first from the sea)
where it was (dead already)
lost in a fog of hardwood smoke.

Golden skin head tail and especially eyes
I pulled delicious flesh from bones
(bones once essential for it
now objectionable to me).
It may not have gone to heaven
I am there as it sits on the plate.
May its memory be a blessing.

© 2022 Bob Schwartz

Note: For some reason sensitive about such things, I contemplated whether or how to illustrate this poem. Pescatarians would be okay, but what about vegetarians and vegans? Considered were photos of a live fish or even a Canadian stamp. But the poem itself is about my carefully dissecting a caught and processed fish, so I might as well not post it at all. Which I have, and have pictured the package. Difficult waters to navigate.