At last my poetry has come.
At least my verse arrives.
Without compulsory restraint,
The language bobs and dives.
I have a river in my heart,
An ocean in my brain.
So, I go fishing with a line,
Releasing what I gain.
The lake of images is full.
The trout swim deep and fast.
The little minnows of the mind
Are in my hands at last.
(August 15, 2008, Pleasant Grove, Utah)
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