
Another Fish Story
His only wish that summer
was to catch that fish.
Worms on hooks.
Flies on lines cast in air.
Right from the start he said,
I’m smarter than any fish.
But it hid in tendril roots,
gills breathing, nebulous green
leaves like shade from heaven.
His great regret,
and he had a few,
was catching that fish
that outwitted him that summer.
Written for dVerse oral poetry. ©Misky 2021
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