13.1k views, 2xBest Poetry Period. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind. |
Poetry and publishing are like how I love fishing, but clueless where to drop a line in the water. I could get pretty skilled at it, if I find some places. I could ask around where to fish, but many won’t reveal their secret hole. Or, just no good advice out there. Or, so far removed from the best places to fish, you get stuck hauling sunfish/bluegill not big enough… to scale, bone, cut up…to eat. Slightly bigger than your bait, you could still haul one worthy to take home. It’s the excitement of prepping, setting your pole to reel one in, and tender wait on a temperate day, when trees shimmy turbulent leaves, yellow, green, yellow, green and the blue fades into white billows sketched on dappled glass that teases just enough to get you to grasp and tighten that light line a bit before…reel back, cast and set again. A red float happily bobble-spin dances before a little back and forth and round and down, and the game begins! Hope she’s a beauty. The One. A dream. Did I just make a poem out of that? Day 4: "The Bard's Hall Contest" 6.8.22 "Note: Revised and retitled poem [Link to Book Entry #1..." |