Thursday, June 12, 2014


       While sitting by my stream of consciousness
       and idly casting out a line to hook
       a fleeting notion that might well express
       a motive I’d not want to overlook,
       I felt my reel unroll and pressed my thumb
       to slow its motion till I’d fixed the hook
       in my imagined fish, perhaps a chum,
       a friendly notion not to overlook.
       Then suddenly it breeched its watery bounds
       and shaking shards of light it arced and fell,
       an action that amazes and astounds
       and bodes a poem’s going very well.
            Last thing to do is land this latest catch
            then add it to my ever-growing batch.