the gift

each lover leaves a gift in parting
yours was star-wrapped evenings
on deserted beaches
waiting for the line to tug
the reel to spin
for the jolt that comes
when a fish bites down and
too late
tries to escape the hook which holds it.

I pulled your hook from my mouth
years ago
the scar still aches
when the moon
silvers a path across the sea
when a fish jumps and the water
spins ever outwards in circles
when the smell of stale beer
and smoke drifts from an open door
when i remember how
it hurt to go.

but the stars still meet in the silent sky
the fish are still running
even now the waves stroke the sand
and i thank you.

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March 2011
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