TRIOLET: It Got Away

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When going fishing as a child
the line seemed like a beam of light-
the woods, my mind, were bramble wild
when going fishing as a child.
I cast as far as those exiled
but boyhood soared, then sank from sight.
When going fishing as a child
the line seemed like a beam of light.

poem by Glenn Bagshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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