Picked up a random poetry book From the crowded shelf. Quick easy hour read: Delight and wonder. Then, Found…
Fishing for Words Part 2
Short story started times three,
Characters flip and fold
Across the page like a gymnastics meet
Where gold is at stake.
Calm waters to murky, choppy ones,
Back to iridescent tranquility.
The sound of “Grandpa’s Stories”
Filter through my memories,
Only the exact words sound muted,
As though trapped in a closed cylinder
Until I find the right key.
Sitting on the old wooden vessel,
Cold tea and fresh jerky,
Red Licorice and crunchy peanuts,
Bellies satisfied,
Our time together remains
Forever etched across that
Opaque skyline,
Cascade Lake.
Twenty-five years past,
Now sitting alone with memories.
Trying to piece together
Cherished wisdom from
A revered man long since gone
Onto heavenly endeavors.
Meanwhile, Scrabble Go notifications
Flash up on my mobile device:
It’s my turn.
I sit and play for hours against
An invisible group of contenders,
Multiple games each,
Over and over,
Five points to forty-eight,
Close game,
Or just a reasonable effort.
My brain sharpens with each one,
Unlike a pencil being ground to a nub,
Distractions from more noble pursuits.