Old Mill Town Lake

In the mist, down a lane, off the well beaten path,

through the weeds, to the dark water’s edge.

Two shadows emerge, draped in netting and wire,

despair and hope hanging low on their nets.

*

An old fishing pole strapped to the back of a boat,

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--

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Telling stories my heart needs to tell

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Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Telling stories my heart needs to tell

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