come with me – for Billy Collins

come with me
there’s something I want to show you
how not to tell a story

you don’t know these friends of mine
in this fishing photograph so I won’t
bore you with my stuff

except to say the way these six kids stand
together with an eel on a pole under willows
on rocks is possibly like some old forgotten

black and white snap
of you and yours when you were
five seven or twelve you know

the kind of memory zap we get
when the boxes are cleared and sorted
after one of us kids dies

and there beneath the dust
of years we are back again all alive
and kicking with at least one

fishing story in common or maybe
two the hungry thousands up in the hills
the men on the beach

on that first unbelievable Sunday dusty
rooms you can’t forget our parents
singing in the church next door

Tuesday Poem

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About paparoa

Writer and researcher.
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