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The Fight
The Strike. The Take. The tail-walk. Splash! A flash of rainbow light. Line tight. Bowed rod, green line Dripping, running free. But fast. Youthful glee. I see the start My son’s two kilo fight. Line tight ! Line tight ! “Play it boy. Play it” I shout; adrenaline pumping I shout again. “Take the strain” Again. Again. Minutes pass. First five, then ten I shout again. He does it right. What a fight! To win that prize. I realise It’s me I want to see. It’s me I want to free. Minutes pass. Maybe forty more Each one a moment near the score Yet risk rides high Loose and cry He holds it. Holds it fast. How I wish the landing moment past Its near. The net! This moment tells as Inside of me excitement wells I see the rainbow through knotted twine He’s done it. Done it ! This son of mine.