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Nodmeyer remembers

Posted on June 1, 2011 at 2:37 PM

Nodmeyer remembers clearly fishing

With his father on the lake. The small

Boat, the blue box of flies and hooks.

The still water, the calm sky. Just him,

His father, the rods, and the occasional

Fish hooked and bucketed. Nodmeyer

Has no son now to fish with; he sits all

Alone in his boat, him, the sky, his rod,

And his box of hooks and flies. His son

Drowned in the lake some years back.

Suicide, some say or insinuate in hush

Hush conversations behind his back.

The water’s unsettled now, sky’s black.

Categories: Poetry & Lyric, Terry Collett

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