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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
© Johnmichael Simon
1970
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