Part(ur)ition

ah, the salmon are spawning;
look, the shadow of their birth
is on the wall, its threads are
all that soothing hue, they are

here, woven craftily in,
partitioning the story;
they are, they rankle, salmon
loss, frustration now distilled

and this the holy office
reaps, the salmon harvest, dreams
pink walls high strung, constraining
in glorious confinement

the bell, it rings; the salmon
course, their time has come, rushing
to unknown ends, a streaming
glory of discarded youth