I’m just a fisherman of words
When luck be my might
A word will bite
When the waves crash with vengeance
I’ll pull in a sentence
When the sea roars, masts are frail
I’ll reel in a whale.
I have a confession to make.
It’s just all luck of the bite.
Your job is to throw out the bait, that can never stop if you wish to have a meal.
The rest is up to the sea. If she feels merciful, she will grant you a taste.
When there is an abundance, she will let you feast.
I don’t own a thing.
Some of my catches have been releases of far better men and women before me who don’t need to devour their catch.
The experience is enough for them.