Seven Cane Poles

Seven cane poles,
resting against the wall.
amongst mother’s other bobbles
in the closet in the hall.
I’d see them there,
occasionally,
from time to time,
Now only seen in the memories
of my mind.
Dad had bought us each our own
one nice early fall day,
spent fishing on a lake
not too far away.
Laughing, and playing,
I caught a fish that day.
And after that those seven cane poles
stood stoic and tall
in mother’s closet hall.
Life has passed me by,
lo these many years,
through great love, sentiment,
and many tears.
And after all I should only want to be,
the sixth of seven cane poles
resting comfortably.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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