I was coming home
I was coming home to die
I was coming home to die in my own bed
Although buoyed by this hope
I could feel my strength ebbing
As I struggled against the tide of life
That had finally turned against me
Suddenly, the world erupted
Into turbulence and confusion
I had reached the last hurdle
I would now have to overcome
With all the power remaining
In my mortal being
I leapt free from earths’ pull
And soared through the air
I am McSalmon of the Salmonidae
I was home, I was home to die
I was home to die in my own bed

Michael Ashby, Sidmouth

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