Cookie Ready

cookie ready yesterday i was on the river fishing the fish were biting, the weather nice I caught a headache it was that black bear again ... the one that haunts my past running up river, running up as fast as she can she stopped ... in the whitewater her favorite haunting grounds ... me she had an ugly face on axes to grind or something ... we look into each others eyes she growls the sun was shining on her only her, like always she was on stage, pushing her weight her message short, and biting with sharp teeth i remember the exchange in time, breaking my heart ... her words blunt ... and to the point in response to a response she wielded that sword of hate ... s-a-y-i-n-g your poem isn't cookie ready, I sank in spirit I sank my last footle from the contest why does she do that to me? in my mind i thought it was a decent footle i walk away i walk alone i walk away from the river from the corner of my eyes i look back at her she wants to get the last word in like always I let her ... it's important to her she says I have a big ego and need help ... i bite my lip what could i do? with someone else's tunnel vision and spite i continue walking along the river so symbolic, with winding turns and life phantom faces i look into the river and throw my fishing pole and gear away, too i lost my joy it hurts connie pachecho 3/29/17