Thursday, 9 January 2025

Poem inspired by anglers on the beach

The fisherman stands.
His line penetrates the darkness.
Waves throw spray around his feet.
His unseen prey somewhere in the shallows.
Moonlight halos the clouds.
His mind is clear of intrigue.
Cold mingles with his bones.
His concentration unfaltering.
Breeze whips sand at his ankles.
His father's ghost lingers.
Nothing caught, but memories woken.
His satisfaction complete.

RC 9-1-25

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