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At dusk as I urged the fish too bite
I remember the lake light shining
Like a disk as I fished for perch or pike
At dusk as I urged the fish too bite!
Bite a spoon of shimmering bait…
I remember bats flitting and circling
Like the insects they longed to catch…
And the ripples left by fish, that had.
I remember the blunt roll-call home…
The boathouse like a sarcophagus…
With its two well rotten doors
Gaping open; like malnourished jaws.
Awaiting, deaths ferrymen back.
Back to them; keep net shores.
I remember the rolling. Fog, rising
About the gnarled chestnut trees
Billowing-out; into brackish reeds…
And then a slice of moon leaping,
Frantic; pulling line from my spool.
I remember the lake light shining
In the scales of a real; living ghoul
Plucked out of the waters fighting…
Was a fish that wasn't preschool.
poem
by
Mark Heathcote
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