third person point of view in my tackle box

third person point of view in my tackle box

 

 

the bass flashed its eyes ashore

the fisherman running away

from God

dropped his rod

next to a burning bush that spoke

 

his stringer starving for early worms

cut, cleaned, packed in ice

his prayers

 

frozen hands folded

he stops, tries to understand

why the dialogue confused him so

 

there are ashes and stripped bones

in a grave

 

a soul caught in the limbo

of belief or not

 

something walked on that water

that made me flee

i know i was reeling in a sense of hope

 

just before those eyes locked on to mine.

 

 

erin-cilberto

5/15/22