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Dreams of fishing in the workplace
Third draft (25/06/2007).
Time is said to spread thinly over days
sluicing through our clocking ins.
We make the table and lay the silver.
The sea salt placed centre square.
Being spliced through bristly fins
and expiring time in office cubicles,
circling the 28th and dreaming
of a land wash on Garda lake.
We don't want to be here feeling the
churn from a tuna sandwich. Sitting
there in lunch breaks like the
starved sea anemones basking.
Walking to the sixth floor window,
ridding haze by the scuffs of elbows.
The air is blistery cool, as we row
boats waiting for the fish to surface.
Ethan Hammond © Saturday 23rd June, 2007.
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Comment by: SacredV - 2007-08-19 18:07
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| I Love to fish and this poem hits home. Especially, when work stands in the way of it. Nothing like being in the middle of the water, sun on your face, and that tug on your pole to make you realize how sweet life can be. Good stuff. |
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Comment by: Jael - 2007-08-15 16:14
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| I enjoyed this, very easy to identify with. I like how you keep the theme of fishing consistent throughout, that's something I'm still trying to perfect. Overall...Wonderful! |
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| Very good read, enjoyed the vision, I could see the imagery. You are a very articulate person and it shows greatly in your work, great job. |
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| Amazing images! I love the precision of "The sea salt placed centre square." Your writing is very evocative but beautifully controlled. Only bit that grated on me was "feeling the/ churn" - don't know why exactly, something to do with how it scanned. Actually now I'm reading it again and it's sounding different in my head so scrub that! :-) |
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Comment by: Aria - 2007-07-12 09:34
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| i like this piece. your imagery is wonderful. |
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