Posted on July 5, 2018 by

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Fishing on an open dam

Wind creates ripples

Unfixed, like the sand

Paddle past the dead timber strands

Submerged

Lost

Drowned

Found

Fingerlings hide in fallen timbers

Snags and logs and lifeless trunks

Safe from hopeless fishermen

Let us hope they avoid the Barramundi.

Category: Environmental, life, PoetryTags: , ,

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In his/her/my own time and space. A Maori word created in 2017

Sensory Processing Disorders
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