Thursday 24 October 2013

An Eight Year Old Fishing

out of the water
with spray in the light
quick muscled fight

rainbow hue fresh
from the deep cool
caught before school

smell of the creek flow
earthy and greening
pooling then freeing

into the rapids
joyfully flowing
as if knowing

I become naked
put the fish back
become what I lack

and dive in to join him

5 comments:

  1. This is so visceral. I could almost see and feel the scene.

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  2. I'm an avid beer drinker and bull shooter--I mean fisherman!
    My father and uncle introduced me to fishing at a young age. Your poem evokes images of carefree days. I tried to give some days like that to my nieces and nephews.

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  3. There's something primitive about fishing, wrestling that fish from the deep and then taking it home and cooking it! How beautifully this poem brings that experience alive. This poem takes me back to fishing with my grandfather. Lovely.

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  4. I loved the way it was structured. Also the thoughts. An excellent writing

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  5. Your sensory images put me right there:
    "smell of the creek flow
    earthy and greening"

    Thank you, Ron. xoA

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