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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Life Poem

I started a line at the beginning,
a line of life, prose or poetry.
I chose poetry.
A poem uncompleted,
demanding line on line
sunset to sun dawn.
Scaling a bluff,
grasping a rope I can’t release.
One hand over the other
to the edge above me,
where the poem will end.

Maybe where it began,
thrown from a fisherman fishing,
I took the bait,
crying each time
I pulled away.
Until now I can’t let go
from what has caught me.
If I dared I would die,
not by accident but intention.
Falling to where I came
in grief too hard to bear.

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