by Alex Spears

Sometimes
if I stare
into the ocean
long enough,
a fish
finds its way
up my line
and into my mind,
whispers
to me
of what’s behind
the colors
and the lines,
explains
the expansiveness
of time,
like a rain drop
falling from the sky
into the sea
ripples, then fades
back into the depths
of itself.


ALEX SPEARS is a dropout from the Stephen F. Austin creative writing program. He has several publications through the undergrad literary journal HUMID, as well as two poems on Psaltery & Lyre published last year. He is currently working as a cook in a coffee shop and writing his first novel.


Photo: “Fish Scales