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I Dreamt I Was Catching Fish Last Night
I dreamt I was catching fish last night.
The sea was flat as my once white sheets,
Stars hung like lanterns,
cold and watching.
I cast once.
The line sang.
The pull came sure.
It bent the rod like a prayer.
The fish didn’t fight.
It came easy.
Too easy.
It stared with human eyes.
I cleaned it on the shore.
Its blood was warm.
It smelled like iron ore and memory.
I woke with empty hands.
And the salt still on my lips.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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