fishing

Personal Reflection 1 Minute 
a rush of light 
between buildings 
and everything is white or black 
or singed with silver 
like a knife’s flash 
or a fish’s leap
and there I am 
age 8 and the river 
is weeping
while trout heave 
and thrash 
on death lines 
under a quiet sun

Written for Twiglet # 281 “quiet sun”

Published by abigfatcanofworms

We all walk in the dark. But if we hold hands, perhaps the dark won't be as scary.

Published

12 thoughts on “fishing”

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