Fishing
by 
RoseDillon
|
Posted: Saturday, March 25, 2006 Word Count: 33 Summary: Imagine looking out from your journey to see a man in silence dipping his line into a stagnant pond by a dilapitated bridge. This is how I saw him... |
Fishing I saw him. Silent, standing,
Behind roars the roadside, runs
Of a bridge. The line lost among
The Nike. Still, cold, capped.
Only hearing the ramble of
The train into the distance.
Behind roars the roadside, runs
Of a bridge. The line lost among
The Nike. Still, cold, capped.
Only hearing the ramble of
The train into the distance.