Baiting

I throw a slightly baited hook

into memory wanting something

to appear but not too big almost

certain I’d prefer such a memory

to get away and refuse me the chance 

to bring it in.  There are things in the past

too big for a morning like this to hold

so I have used a small piece of bait

of remembering to lure a moment 

or two to me: a remembered song,

a whiff of perfume, a woman passing

casting a memory.  Some moment that doesn’t

hold gain and loss, a blues riff of the heart,

love held and lost. . . .  I’m beginning to

think I don’t have any other moments

that gave what these did.  Reel my line in,

know I don’t need to bait the past at all:

what will come will come.

Once again remember it’s better to receive 

than to ask for what I don’t need.

I think I’ll just float on this stream.

-Byron Hoot

https://hootnhowlpoetry.com