Writing is Like Fishing, Which is Like Love
The waves keep coming and going. Cormorants and terns. Too many to make a moment of. A heron steps like a feathered model from one pose to the next. A white boat tiny in the distance. I’m looking observant but not seeing much. Can’t smell a thing. Feel the sun sliding down my back, my head poking into dusk. I wait until dark hoping something will sneak up on me.
moonlight all the fish lost at sea
May 6th, 2016 at 1:05 pm
Great haiku–perfect for the prose. I really like it, Bob.
May 6th, 2016 at 6:11 pm
I, too, like this one very much!
May 7th, 2016 at 2:59 pm
'Writing is Like Fishing Which is Like Love' … Yes … the whole piece is a great analogy.
a gust of wind
whirs across water
the heron's wings
May 23rd, 2016 at 4:14 am
Very nice. The desire to have something sneak up on you in the dark was a striking line and I loved the 'model cormorant'! :)
marion
May 23rd, 2016 at 6:25 am
So rich, the writing. "Feel the sun sliding down my back, my head poking into dusk". And then the dark and with the "moonlight all the fish lost at sea"
Brought back memories of The Old Man and the Sea.