Fishing for Words

The boat slips creaking into moonmist

and I stand on the dock

clothed in my blanket of breath fog

watching it depart

 

The fish flee silverly into the depths

some shimmer in the net

not yet aware that they are prisoners

 

The waves burst watery fireworks

on the hull

the canvas slaps in the wind

life sails by like a boat in the night

and I am left fishing for words

 

Oh for a painter to paint the picture

oh for the words to describe it

oh to touch its wetness

to taste its salt

to smell its fishy smells

to tell its story

before the wind whips it away to oblivion

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© Johnmichael Simon

1970

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