Fishing
Swishing sound of the silent river Cool mountain breeze
rushes the lonely trees
warm sandwich from a
battered knapsack.
Fishing pole grows heavy from the thousandth cast.
I haven't had so much as a bite, but this is still the best
time of my life.
I enjoy the sky
and the dark rainy clouds
stressful life and stressful job a million miles away
I think I could live here,
But I can't
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