Gratitude
Nothing Biting
The road ends in gravel and frost-heaved roots. I kill the engine; metal ticks as it cools and the bush presses in, a raven heckling from the treeline. The lake lies dull as metal between black spruce, the dock slick with algae. I carry rod, tackle box, thermos. No one’s here to impress. I bait the hook by feel, fingers already numb, and cast until the line lands softer than a thought.
By Patrick Gadoury11 months ago in Poets
𝕞𝕪 𝕐𝕖𝕤
In February of 2022, You knew I didn't think You were real so You revealed to me things that in this world aren't possible, making me finally know that You are real and not just a character in a book. A book that is the best- selling book of all time, in the history of man, by the way.
By Colleen Walters11 months ago in Poets
