A throw from shore, dock or a boat, a fisherman yearns for the prize that’s afloat. A cast of his line so eager is he, but patience and time will be what he needs.
The first bright reflection the sun says hello, a bright orange halo envelopes him so.
A dip of the float a tug on the line heightens his senses tickles his mind.
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A fantastic poem. I used to had a bit of size to my fish when I used to go fishing.