Letters of reference flew into the lake
Where the fly fishing hook waited for the dreams
As the salty waves of aspirations bubbled.
It was a perch of solitude for me.
Where I always cast the same old reel
Cursing the gnats of swarming ignorance
Life had four seasons.
The student, teacher, student and teacher.
You're a student.
To whom it may concern.
You have waived your rights, to see my wrong.
My CV is a haiku
Yours is War and Peace
For which I write a forward
Shamelessly
Fly fishing...
I would rather sit at this perch where
I write a poem about you
Then...
I retire into the clouds moistening my nostrils
Who will write my poem?
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