That Time My Father In Law Took Me Fishing At Keowee Toxaway In The Early 1970s

In A 10 Foot Dingy With Two Inches Of Freeboard I Wrote This

Two Thoughts Two Homilies

We say because our keys
Have never opened the lock
No one has a key that fits it

A man had enough time next spring
And a bucket of minners
He’d hook him a stringer full
Right here in them weeds

We hope because the lock
Remains unopened something
Horrible hides behind it.

With time imagination flint
A stone and a little tinder
A man could make this place
Right here right cozy