Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Catch and release

My grandfather took me fishing 
only a couple of times

I did not like the taste of fish 
but enjoyed the feel of the reel

the quick release game of coordination 
and the swish of nylon line

zipping over the water, its little lure plunking 
into the stillness of our quiet fishing spot

it was play to aim farther,  more precisely
never leaving the bait to dangle 

long enough to entice any stream-dwellers 
before pulling in the line as swiftly as I could

I got lucky once or twice but threw them back 
for being too small

I squealed not wanting to touch the poor fish
not wanting to see their gasping mouths

snagged by my hook
when I had only wanted to play

Tuesday, April 16, 2019


One could say our relationship was like an airport
so many comings and goings 
long embraces after even longer absences 
and more than a few delays and bumpy landings 
looking forward to every hello
and regretting every goodbye 
until the last

Monday, April 15, 2019


When does one celebrate an
anniversary when divided 
by an ocean, where day
for one is 
night for the other and
dreams no longer
fall onto the same pillows

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