The Wrong Angle
I dont fish well
I cast a heart strung line
Where I think she may be swimming
Near some old stump
A downed log
Where local birds perch
Hoping to pluck a passerby
to take home
But I send my line
With good intentions
And when my line jigs
I reel you in
Anticipating a kodak moment
I lift you up
Only to find
My hook is covered in muck
I’m left standing
Alone
On the water’s edge
I wonder…
Where did all the good fish go?
2 thoughts on "The Wrong Angle"
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love, love, love the detailed extended metaphor
Love the phrase “a heart strung line”