Notes About The Poem
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DAD'S FISHING ROD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I
bamboo curve, sun-bleached—
still smells of lakeweed and sweat.
his thumbprint remains.
II
reel jammed with old line—
ghost-tug of the one that snapped
his last muttered curse.
III
rust hooks in the shed—
nowhere left to cast but dreams
where the big ones bite.
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