SALMON RUN
BY DARA GOODALE
every year the air turns cold
& trees catch fire—orange embers
glow backlit by pale
autumn sun
it is time to migrate
saltwater salmon go home
to the rivers of their youth
travel in leaps
of scales that shimmer
in afternoon light
the vice-grip of evolution
commands them to procreate
its primal hands tight
around slippery throats
most of them will not survive
the journey is high-risk
uphill battle they swim upstream
in the rush of current many are lost
there is no time to mourn
when they hit freshwater
salmon deny the need to eat
their bodies nothing but empty
vessels meant to sire new
offspring in sacred genesis
those who make it to the gravel beds
where they were born
lay their eggs & wait
for death—
pulled back
by invisible thread
salmon give up the free
expanse of ocean
where the world is boundless
for a wet grave—
they renounce the promise
of future & return to birthplace
where they die
martyrs
for their species
with no one left
to grieve them
Dara Goodale (they/she) is a Romanian-American lesbian, poet, and university student living in Lausanne, Switzerland. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in the American Poetry Journal, Cleaver Magazine, Thimble Literary Magazine, Underbelly Press, The Passionfruit Review, and more.
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