Tuesday, April 24, 2012

I Ain't No Poet

A Pond
            I am fishing in a pond with no fish. My canoe is riddled with holes. It was never meant for water. Just a display piece I picked up from a flea market. Lucky for me the pond isn’t even deep enough to float in. Just gives the illusion of floating. I wonder if that’s how Christ did it. I am surrounded by the smell of camp fires. Fallen trees burn and send embers into the sienna sky. A sunless sky is best for fishing. The sun would scare the fish away.

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