The Fishing Line


I cast a line beyond the sign
“No fishing” echoes in my mind
I reel the twine and cast again
To fish the missing half of mine

Cattails sway in nightly doubts
About the stroke of haunting nine
And if I cry, I spook the souls
Who swim around the fisher’s line

While In my box, I search for bait
Distain, despair, and weights of fate
A net is fine, if you don’t mind
It was the veil of my pale bride

We woke the dawn in many ponds
Beyond the warning of the signs
I cannot speak of moments bleak
So silence spools my fishing line

In nights of rite deprived of sight
Her screaming takes a solemn toll
From mortal soul to fishing hole
My lover’s fright the waters stole

I saw her bubbles as they burst
A curse to splash my every throw
It sinks in me, her memory
Weighted down like my betrothed

I feel a tug, the bobber drops
She reels with me, an absent hold
Past the signs of death foretold
We fish to catch her wanting soul

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