Friday, April 26, 2013

fishing for flowers

Bridges of stone   
   and moss
We sit
   with lines and poles
We do not need
   bait or hooks
We do not come
   to murder fish
We are
   fishing for flowers

Others stare
Others laugh
We do not care
We do not kill
We
      are fishing
                        for flowers

Another from my 'legacy' collection. Even though it was in those papers, and so must have been typed up in the 90's, I remember writing this in the summer of 1985 while hitch-hiking from Paris to Marseilles with my then fiancé-now wife. We were sitting on a bridge, having a particularly long wait for a lift; under the bridge, instead of water, was thick grass with loads of flowers on the banks. And I wasn't even a vegetarian then!

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