they’re biting

something about
sitting in a small
wooden boat with oars,
or on a dock
or a small rock by the shore

holding a fishing rod
or a pole
with a line
slooping down into the water
on a soft day.

Water mirrors sky
separating the act
from the action.

The reverie is enough.

Below the glass
lurks Alice
with her flippant questions.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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