Fishing

By -
There is a moorhen on the grass 
as the sky's shadow falls,
forward and exploring brave
away from the black water.
My mind is trapped, ever-tumble-turning
weed words
not managing one yellow foot
out onto the reasoned bank.
Until I think of him,
later
curious in the dark
looking for food in rising places. 


C. LJ Ireton, 2026

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