This Pole I Hold – Stella

Here on the bank of one of the largest manmade lakes in the country

He used to fish here

I grew up here

It’s peaceful

Besides his pole I hold

I see poles in the air scattered there

And there

True fishermen I guess

I still see him sitting here as the sunrises

I see me sitting right next to him

The water like glass with a single line luring


Just the sound of water trickling on my toes

I see his eyes sneak a peek at me once in a while

He loves me and I him

But now I sit in his chair alone with his pole

With tears and no idea what to do with this wiggle on my hook

to read more from Stella, click here:

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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