Poetry

Gert Strydom


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8 august 2013

On a fishing holiday

At the break of dawn
the neighbour has a visitor
pulling in with a small Nissan-do- it-all pickup
towing a small Venter trailer
with a blow-up motorboat on the canopy
and the two wave at me
when they set out
driving away to the sea
and shout aloud:  “See you there”
 
and a day later I meet them on the beach
standing solitary
out of view from each other
on rocks jutting into the sea,
throwing whistling lines
straight into the deep
with sunglasses protecting their eyes
against the glare
as if searching for peace and tranquillity
at the edge of the blue ocean
 
and the two men speak few words to me
both determined to reel in something big
and in the distance the hues of sea and sky meet
while water touches, laps against my feet
and I find my own way to the jetty
casting a line in, waiting patiently
until a lovely girl comes over to talk with me,
sets my mind on different things
(spoils the tranquillity),
but I have a two legged mermaid
following me to a restaurant
while they still wait with nothing,
casting in with new bait.






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