Treasure Island

Atef Ayadi

The Fisherman

I am standing up
In the middle
Of the lake.
My feet are touching the ground
The lake is soft and tender.
The water is endlessly pure.
The floor is nothing but
I came to relax
And stand up.
Yes, I came to fish
In the middle of it.
I only have little yard thread
And a dream
To hold a fish
Between my hands.

Here is my fish!
Out of nowhere,
Rolling and wrapping itself
Around the thread.
Both never expected
To be in the middle of nowhere.
I do not want
To pull the thread
And I do not resist
The picture of
The fish is trying to make her way to my hands.
I held it
Softly the between
My hands;
I freed it
As if I am freeing myself
From the idea of being
In middle of nowhere.

Submitted: Friday, November 17, 2006
Edited: Saturday, November 20, 2010
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