The Moonlight Fisherman
I saw him in the moonlight,
with a fishing pole in his hand,
There was no water for miles,
and I wondered what he was doing,
for hour's without end.
Then he swished the pole,
back and forth,
and I slept a peaceful sleep.
The next day I awoke,
but I never saw the Moonlight Fisherman again.
But alas, I still waited,
a never-ending hope.
poem by Ivan Ramirez N
Added by Poetry Lover
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