What about the others like me?
I was locked in a ball tangled
of fishing nets and lines;
sat on the sand beach,
like a rock, can't move.
Peeking through the hole
in the ball, I saw
a young man approaching.
I struggled to move away
from the man; to the water;
I cannot budge, locked in the ball.
He stands over me.
"O, you poor turttle," he says.
From his pocket, he takes
a knife and begins to cut
the entangled fishing lines.
I want to run, afraid
but cannot move an inch.
Little by little, the lines
begin to unravel; I can breathe now;
still, in fear.
What seems like an hour later,
the loosens lines free me;
only then do I realize
the man's good deed.
As I crawl to the water,
I think, what about
the others like me, somewhere?
(This is published in The Weekly Avocet, #657, July 6th, 2025.)
© Byung A. Fallgren
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So thoughtfully sensitive
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A sweet and poignant piece.
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Thanks so much.
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Thank you, Derrick
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Great question, but sadly, not all get the help they need! Beautiful lines, Byung!
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Thanks, Susi.
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