This Catch and Release Poetry Program
is what we’ve named it, you and I
together
is what we’ve named it
this catch and release
program where I catch you, poems,
mostly with a net or several nets
of varying dimensions
the largest big enough to scoop substantial, hefty fishes
the lightest airy enough to snag words from thinnest wildfire smoke air
Catch and release is closest I can come to
naming what best fits my way with words
(or words way with me)
Maybe I don’t catch you after all.
Maybe it’s not the swoop and swing,
sway of my net scooping you up
spreading you on my blue table where I sort you
quickly, quickly
as you dry in the sun
shaping you this way and that into
a poem
Maybe it’s all you,
snagging my sweater along with the burdocks
clinging to my bare feet with the damp pink and white petals
one from a snapped-off geranium,
one from a peony gone to raining wind,
one from who knows where
Maybe I don’t catch you after all.
Maybe I’m not even the one holding the net
Puff Of Smoke Poems 