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Board Administrator Username: mjm
Post Number: 4213 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Thursday, July 21, 2005 - 1:50 pm: |
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Honorable Mention Fishing with a Child and then a Daughter Treezaa ( T. E. Ballard) He cast the line to the lilies where the hornpout waited, hungry and aware. I thought of them as old women smelling my father’s hands, nibbling with tired mouths. The small heart of a frog, a blood pearl, treasure sunk to a world we did not know. It was here I learned to love, to watch. The string hitting the surface, touching the scales begging the fish to breathe air; an unfathomable wish. A desire for more than what was possible. What was offered. My first man became a god fell like the sharp edge of a hook into my gill, pulling me to the surface.
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