His eyes are hooks
Not sharp, or cold
But tools to catch me
And reel me in
His hands are fishing line
Almost invisible
Almost weightless,
Pulled taut at my arrival
His back is the rod
That stands up straight
But bends at my will
When I think the bait is worth it.
He thinks I am a fish,
His latest catch.
He is mistaken.
Poetry
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I love the imagery and comparison in this poem. I think the fishing line imagery to a boy really captures the essence of being reeled in without quite knowing what’s happening. I thought that the terms of reeling in, hook, bait could have such devious double meanings that are hard to catch at first.
And of course, the turn at the end, when he has caught something that is not merely a fish that he can use and throw away, that’s where the poem gets really interesting. The tension continues to heighten and at the last stanza, so hauntingly done with three words, really reeled me in.
I think the poem is already so wonderful on its own, but I think adding the imagery of the river, the ocean, the pool in which this person is fishing in will enrich the experience of the reading. Perhaps, this is not his time, and his continuous exploitation will come to an end.
Aforementioned, that is just a thought I’m chewing on, but this was so lovely on its own.
Thank you so much! Your comments are so appreciated, and I feel so thankful that you took the time to think about my poem and write out a response. I am so grateful.
It’s an amazing poem and I can’t wait to read all your other works. Let me know when you write something else!!!
This is intriguing.
Nice imagery, I agree. Great job!