On Losing Dreams

I catch a glimpse

(A flicker of light on basalt)

Then see my dreams

Sluiced out like gleaming fish

From a ship's hold.

Full and fresh

They throttle down

Against the metal walls,

Off to be cleaned and gutted.

Before I can grab them

They slide out past my hands,

Only a leather apron and a

Bloodied grappling hook

Could  stop them now.