what must be done

I dream of salmon
large pink salmon,
swimming upstream,
their bodies bending
with muscle
in the sunlight.
the glisten of their
scales, the bright flecks
of blue
and silver,
small rainbows above
the rage
of white water.
I dream of them
leaping, pushing their way
up to where they need
to be.
I dream of some
in the mouths of bears,
clawed from
thin air, they too
doing what must be done
to go on.