i am going bananas
over my empty bag
i take out my fishing rod & reel
and cast the line over the lake
it is summer & sun
has blued & sparkled the shore
stones, sands, pebbles, low tide
i take it
crackles, bouts of silence, birdsongs, sweat
running down my back
a tremor pulses
and i reel in the line to look at my catch
is it lost door key?
is it freshwater salmon?
or maybe a lost train ticket?
nope
it is the shape of
a woman's torso
robust, unpretentious, glorious
the randomness is serendipity
the nothingness is everything
and this sits right with me:
lens of the uncertainty of the poet
The Uncertainty of the Poet
Giorgio de Chirico
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