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Poetry Magnum Opus

Day 23


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Fishing for Words
4/23/2023, Con/Jur/d

Despite the number of times
I’ve rewritten it, and the styles 
tried, I can’t improve on the original
“Like finding in the back of the freezer 
a forgotten pint of Amaretto Cherry ice cream
the one with the little chocolate bits” as said
by Tracy Mitchell, or the feeling of being
watched by dairy cows from whom
the ice cream might be made
or the rush of discovering
a feral Thornapple grove
with my wife who doesn’t
like cherries, tho appreciates
the chocolate or the

Strange tickling sensation
spreading up my spine upon
reading, the great green plants
underfoot are False Hellebore
whose toxic roots were eaten
by some First Peoples to
decide who would lead
choosing the one who 
was least sick, to
decide among 

And it seems 
the words who remain innocent
despite my best efforts to twist
and pervert them, lack a certain
physicality, much beloved by
Sycamore tree’s fluffy seeds
filling the warm spring air
on the uncertain path
to this hidden stream
lush with trout.

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