Leaving for Westport

Somehow you knew you would end up here
As you slipped past
All that gray water
And hesitated just above the Columbia River
Which may have been a good turning point.

But you passed through all of the
Overhanging vegetation
Darting among other silver bodies
And passing through still pools
Between jaws with rows of angular,
Jagged teeth.
Until a clock inside of you turned
You finned through white water
Releasing roe, then hesitating
One moment longer
Until black rounded stones
Began to nestle against your silver flanks
And air and rain and sand
Entered your gills
And I came along to
Marvel at that perfect fit
Between volcanic rock
And flesh.