Through
    my nose,
   downstream
  into my throat,
 a salmon swims
 in my bones.
 She navigates
 the damaged
  ecosystem of my
   body, slips inside
    porous bones.
     Like an engineer
     fixing a faulty dam,
      she lays her eggs
       in the holes, the
        hollow redds.
        All night I feel her
        undulations, the
        arching and
       reaching of back
      and belly. I move
     with the flapping
    of her tail. Her
   voice bubbles up
  to the surface.
 My ears swoosh
with water and
syllables. I hear her
calling her unborn
as once I called
my own. Pink with
 the oily ooze of
  salmon, her feathery
   flesh, and wild with
    desire for fresh water, 

     I swim upstream,
      against the current,
       through rapids
        and estuaries,
         as after long
          absence,
          I push for
         home.

From The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement (Wind Publications, 2016).
Used here with permission..