For mere sport, people try to kill the joyous rock bass river fish.
Don’t you suspect these fish might have their own gods to thank?
No marvelous fish would ever ask any hairless ape for mercy.
Almost every human, even slightly angry, snarls vengefully at mercy.
In 1944, for the first time, my father took me to catch and murder fish.
Still too ignorant at three, I knew neither how to kill nor whom to thank.
Father and I were so blessed that day, I still wonder what gods to thank.
In some random way, I know we granted, and received, deathless mercy.
In the late-afternoon sun, no one there caught even one tiny river fish.
Though we never saw any fish, they did thank us for our mercy.