Shoes i fish...shoes i wish

The rose smells of her, the thorns draw my blood
The rain falls gently, the drizzle smears the mud
I sit by the pond, an odd trout leaps in the air
My fists clinch the earth, her memories are rare

I wait for her to speak, wait for the temper to peak
The fish hook pierces the skin, poignant memories reek
My search for earthworms makes me dig more
My wrist carries tattoos from my misplaced yore

She doesn’t speak to me, her anxiety elusive as the fish
The ripples in the water give me hope, float my wish
I see them become water again, I feel the as if she knows
Then, I feel the wind on my cheeks, feel as if she blows

The line pulls at me; I am tempted to pull too
I hesitate; I twitch, for I might catch another shoe
I recall the moments when we rendered ourselves bare
She always happened to lose the colourful shoes she would wear