The moon seems to be doing nothing tonight.
I know the moon always seems to be doing
nothing, but that knowledge is even more acute now:
standing at the window of my study I think
of my father and I night fishing for the first and last
time, both of us giving up early, having caught no fish,
absolute zero, a poor physics, some fishermen we were.
I see a man on the park’s pathway holding aloft
a good-sized fish for the world to see. The tricks the light
and your mind can play on you is endless.
But keep doing nothing, moon. You’re beautiful.
Night Fishing
Tim Suermondt is the author of five full-length collections of poems, the latest: “Josephine Baker Swimming Pool” from MadHat Press, 2019. He has published in Poetry, Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, The Georgia Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Stand Magazine, december magazine, On the Seawall, Poet Lore and Plume, among many others. He lives in Cambridge (MA) with his wife, the poet Pui Ying Wong.