Here is my poem about the salmon migration in the Don River, here in Toronto. Some years ago, as weirs in the river were removed, the salmon in Lake Ontario resumed their autumn migration up Toronto’s rivers to spawn – they can be quite a stunning sight in the water. Now by this time of year the migration is finished – but we still have that autumn landscape around us, snow is not yet on the ground, and we can think of them.
Don River Salmon
by Helen Iacovino
fish fighting the water,
fighting the current,
opposing the outer current,
to follow the inner current,
the call of the upstream waters,
& the patterns of their cells,
when like a siren
the north star beckons.
after the years of forgetting
they return to the memory of beginnings,
every leap a leap towards death,
to die into the pattern of life.
brown streaks in swirling water –
it’s the leap higher, the leap that might do it
& lead to the still pools
of the remembered brook upstream
where so long ago it all began…
the primal memory,
the remembered sunshine of the tiny fish
as the little fins discovered current,
& the fish-mouth devoured its first insect,
with spring sun reaching through the water’s surface
to warm its freshly-hatched scales –
& then the journey to the immense lake
so it could live its fish-life fully.
now in autumn’s cool, against the lake breezes,
their pulse quickens as they pass
the same willows, now spreading yellow leaves,
the granite boulders, the forested embankments,
the fields of drying goldenrod,
& the animals coming down to drink
the ever-fresher water –
& we see them & know where they’re going,
know they will get there,
know of their sacrifice –
& overhead the wild geese
make their practice flights,
the snow-fence is up along the beach,
& on the mountainside
the medicine wheel is turning.
© Helen Iacovino
Helen Iacovino - Poetry Etc. 