White Lake Fish

Poetry by Drema Drudge

after Richard Hugo

Richard Hugo says not to choose
the topic,
not to write a poem because
it feels like it should be written.

But has he ever been on a beach
when a man’s body is fished
from the lake,
served on a paddle board,
and rushed away in an ambulance?

Has he
sat, stunned, unsure:
Life?
Death?

Was it a final departure or
a resurrection,
and why are the boats…

Oh …