navwin » Main Forums » Passions in Prose » Excerpt
Passions in Prose
Post A Reply Post New Topic Excerpt Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793


0 posted 2003-01-27 03:45 PM



It was an unusual summer, that summer of changes. Old patterns were being broken, and new ones not yet formed.

In August, the temperature was still mild. The heat of late summer had never materialized while late season rains kept the hillsides and valleys green with verdant coats of green. Early mornings filled the valleys with fog that lay thick until late over the rivers and late afternoon sunshine cascaded through treetops to dance in dappled wonder on the ground.
It was an August to remember. Remembered for the unusual.

Jack was affected by the changes too. His life had been turned upside down by problems at home, a job offer, and a general unease that had crept into his life like the fog that covered the valley below him. Decisions had to be made. He knew they would not be easy ones to make or to live with, but he knew they had to be made. Guilt stuck to him lately like a wet T-shirt after a soaking rain. It at times was not so bad, but it always ended up making him feel chilled when the winds of doubt blew.  He had no choice but to shiver.

Today was to be an escape. He had promised three old friends he would meet them at the river. The plan was to put their canoes in at Bluestone Bridge and to float the 7 miles to Arless landing. The small mouth bass were plentiful in that stretch and they hoped to catch their limits. Jack didn’t really care about catching any fish on this trip. He knew it might well be the last time he and these friends were together. One decision, that he would be moving, had been made when he pulled up to the bridge. He knew he was taking the job offered

No one had arrived yet so Jack parked his Jeep and got out to stretch. He wasn’t a big man, at 5’11’ and 170 lbs. he was of average build. His hair had started to thin and his face had the wrinkles of someone who had spent time in the sun. Not one to turn the ladies heads, but then again not one to be totally overlooked, because of his intense eyes. Brown and as deep as the shadows that had fallen over his life they were attractive and danced with mischief or anger when provoked.

Getting back in his Jeep, he backed to edge of the water and got out to begin untying the straps on his canoe. With practiced ease, he undid the straps and swung the 17’ boat from the top of his vehicle. Pushing it into the edge of the river, he stepped to the back of the Jeep and began to unload his cooler and fishing gear. He thought while doing these tasks, of the times he had been to the river alone. The peaceful way the river at this point flowed gently around the bend up ahead and how it narrowed to a chute downstream all came to mind while the last of his gear went in and was tied down.

Just as he had pulled away from the river and locked up, he heard the rattle of a truck on gravel. Smiling to himself, he knew it must be Randy. He always drove that old black truck like it was a tank. Rattling and banging in the back would be his aluminum canoe and two dozen other assorted things he had loosely tied down. Looking down the road, he saw the truck emerge from a corner barely ahead of the dust cloud that was billowing up from the tires.

He turned back to his thoughts about the river, and realized one of the reasons he loved the river and being on it had to do with the way it changed. A living thing… with every rain or dry spell the river re-created itself. New shorelines were born from flood or drought and around each turn, one never knew what tree had fallen or what new pothole scoured out.  He laughed as the old black truck drew closer, when he realized the thing that had so attracted him to the river, was the same thing that was causing the stress in his life. Change…

The old black Chevy rattled to a stop as a cloud of dust chased it to the river.  The door opened with a sound much like the noise a cat makes when you accidentally step on its tail as Randy jumped out and looked around. He nodded at Jack and began to unload the assorted gear he had flung earlier that morning into the back of his truck. His hair was slightly long over his ears and his face had the look of the rough and tumble life he had lived before he sobered up. He and Jack had known each other for over 20 years. They worked together, had gotten drunk together, and when Randy had decided to sober up, Jack had been there. He looked every bit as tough as the path he had chosen for himself, and carried the scars on his arms and face from numerous car wrecks. At 5’8” and about 160 lbs. he had a gut that dropped over his belt and a quirky smile he usually displayed when he was tormenting someone.

After the canoe was unloaded, and the gear stowed, Randy finally looked at Jack and spoke.  “Mornin”, he said in a gruff voice, “looks like the weathers going to hold, and if everyone shows up at a decent hour, we should catch fish.” With that he turned and picked up his pole and began to cast along the edge of the bridge. Casting just at the edge of the eddy formed where the river ran between the pilings he let the lure sink slowly as he twitched the rod end slightly. “You are going to take the job aren’t you?” he asked without turning around. Jack answered as he bent over to pick up his own rod, “yeah, I guess I made up my mind this morning.” Randy never turned but cast again into the same spot he had before and repeated the slight twitching motion with his rod tip. Jack reached into the canoe and opened his tackle box trying to decide what to tie on first.
“Jack, you and me will take my canoe.” “Put your stuff in the front.”

Jack nodded as he tied on a white Buzz bait thinking about how rare friends really were and how different people could be and still be friends. His thoughts wandered back to the hot Missouri Summers he and Randy had fished together. They usually fished well together. Each well aware of the others likely actions and both reasonably good at finding the pockets where the bigger fish liked to lay in the shade or behind a rock to protect them. Fishing with Randy was easy. They might talk constantly, but it was usually long silent periods punctuated with the occasional comment or jibe from one end of the boat or the other.

Just as Jack finished transferring his equipment to Randy’s canoe, they heard the sound of another truck heading their way. Randy looked up and then at his watch. “ Yep, must be Joe and Bill, since they are already about a half an hour later than we said we would meet.” Jack just chuckled and said, “ Hell he has never been on time before, why would he be today?” They watched and fished as the blue S-10 pickup pulled around the last curve and towards the bridge. “ Wonder what time Joe got in last night?” Jack said with a laugh. “He don’t look like he’s perking to well this morning.” Randy just grunted and said something under his breath that Jack knew wasn’t complimentary.


As Joe’s truck came to a halt, Jack turned to watch the river. It’s funny, he thought, how the things around you shape the decisions you make. He cast the Buzz bait out next to a piling and began to reel it in quickly so that it skimmed across the top of the water sputtering. Nothing rose to the bait, so he stuck his pole in the front of the canoe, turned and walked up to Joe’s truck.

The fact Joe was indeed hung over didn’t slow his mouth down one bit. As he opened the door, he began. “ All right!, Lets go catch fish.” “I’m going to catch fish today, yep, what are you two doing standing around?” “ Hey Bill! Lets get this stuff in the canoe and get started.” Joe’s constant chatter continued. “ Hey Randy, you bring any extra line? “  Randy looked at Joe and smiled, “yep, I got extra line, but the way you fish it doesn’t much matter whether you have line or lure on your pole.”  As he said this he walked over to the canoe and opened his tackle box and extracted a spool of line and tossed it to Joe.

Joe and Randy had known each other and had been friends for more than 25 years. Both had been hard drinkers when younger. Joe still was, Randy wasn’t. The fact Joe still drank heavily and couldn’t seem to go anywhere or do anything without a drink annoyed Randy. He knew Joe’s wife wanted him to quit or slow down. He also knew that they had problems at home. Randy had almost lost his family before he decided to dry out, the pain and fear this had caused him was constantly there to remind him of how easily people could throw away what’s important.

Joe’s constant stream of running commentary continued, “ Hey Jack, you and Randy going to float together?” Jack looked up from his tackle box, where he had been digging around for a pair of clippers, “ Yeah, we figured you and Bill could take my canoe, we’ll take Randy’s”  “Good!” Joe started, “ Me and Bill are going to catch fish, and I wouldn’t want you two to feel bad when we are limited out and your not.” He laughed and headed back to his truck for another load of coolers and equipment. Jack watched his lanky form recede and remembered the few times Joe had gone fishing with him and Randy. Joe had been raised in a medium sized city and had not touched a fishing pole until about 3 years ago. Joe preferred golf to fishing. On the golf course, he was better than average, on the river was another story. His 6’2” frame and slight build made him look like a tall Barney Fife and he handled a fishing pole about the way Barney handled a gun. Jack knew this wouldn’t keep Joe from bragging and ragging on how much better he was, even when every one present knew it was just talk. Joe didn’t seem to like silence, perhaps because when he quit talking, he heard the questions inside his head.

Bill had been quiet through out this whole exchange. He was more a friend of Joe’s than of Randy or Jack. Both had met Bill before and there had been one other trip they had taken together that had ended up in a substantial drunk for almost everyone. As Joe’s attention turned from Randy and Jack, Bill became the focus of Joe’s sarcasm and cutting remarks. “Bill, you gonna stand there all day or are we going fishing?” “Geez, you get in the back so you can paddle me around and put me on the fish.” “You can’t catch fish anyway, and make sure you keep the canoe upright.” “ Lose my beer and this trip will be a short one indeed.”  Bill moved his gear to the back of the canoe and
Said nothing.

Randy had walked over to his canoe and looked at Jack who just shook his head and climbed into the front. Randy pushed off and climbed in with hardly a bobble to the canoe. Together they picked up their paddles and began to navigate past the bridge and into the long still hole of water just below it.

Bill and Joe had finished their loading, and Joe was walking the length of the canoe to get to the front while Bill held it steady. Once Joe was seated, Bill pushed the canoe off and climbed in the back sending the canoe in wild back and forth rocking that threatened to tip it over accompanied by a constant stream of directions and advice from Joe. Not that Joe knew anything about canoes, but he was always the one to shout orders and give directions.

Jack sat in the front paddling slowly as they passed the bridge. His thoughts turned to home and the choices he had to make. He wasn’t happy at home and he knew it. He just wasn’t sure why now he had all these doubts and all these desires to be on his own. He had married at a young age and after his wife had been involved in a couple of affairs, he had divorced her, met another woman and jumped back into marriage for a second time. He knew he had made a mistake with his second marriage. It had been an effort to hide from his own fear and to heal the emotional wounds suffered in his first. Now, as the guilt once again clung to him like a wet T-shirt, he was seriously thinking about leaving. He knew the reasons for his going would not be easily explained or understood, he also knew he would be alienating himself from the world he had grown so comfortable with. None of this seemed to outweigh the need he had to move on and to be on his own.

Shaking his head slightly, he chased away the thoughts and picked up his pole. Randy had already started casting into the water just below the bridge. He knew the fish liked to lay behind rocks or limbs at the edge of running water or the tail end of riffles so that they could watch for food brought to them by the current and still not expend a great deal of energy to stay in one place.
Jack watched him for minute as he cast out, let the plastic grub he was using sink slowly, and then twitch the rod end slightly as he reeled the lure slowly back towards the boat. Jack’s mind continued to wander, and even as he cast out for the first time, he knew that finding peace from his internal struggles was not going to be easy.

Joe and Bill had made it past the bridge and floated straight through the hole below the bridge to and around the first bend. Jack and Randy listened as they went through the shallow riffle below the long hole they sat in and heard the sound of the aluminum canoe as it grated on rock and gravel. Joe’s booming voice could be heard chastising Bill for not steering to the left and avoiding the limbs.

Looking at each other both Randy and Jack laughed. “Going to be a long day for those two” Jack said. Randy smiled and said, “ Depends on how much Joe drinks between now and noon.” “ If I know him, he’ll be pretty well soused by the time we eat lunch.” “ Damned fool… he knows what he’s doing to his family, but won’t do anything to change.” “Guess it isn’t my business.” “I know he won’t change until he wants to, and right now he doesn’t want to.” Jack nodded without turning around. His thoughts turned to how Randy and Joe used to be the best of friends. Friends long before Jack had started working on a daily basis with both of them. He had been on the fringe, just outside the social circle they had run in. Close enough to know what they were involved in and to be semi-accepted as an acceptable presence in most situations, but kept at arms length when it came to the get togethers and parties they used to have. It wasn’t until Randy had really hit bottom that the friendship between he and Joe had started to fray at the edges. Joe, in his own world, could not deal with Randy admitting he had a problem and getting help. Joe had supported from a distance, but the emotional issues raised by the conflict in life styles, were buried and not discussed by either of them.

The first fish was caught about 20 minutes after they had pushed off. Randy cast a white Buzz Bait near an old tree at the edge of a long riffle. The small mouth had risen and hit the bait with purpose. Joe and Bill were nearby and as Randy pulled the fish in he held it up and yelled across the water at Joe “ Want to smell this one Joe?” Joe looked over and a bit confused asked “ Why would I want to smell it RJ?” Randy laughed and yelled back,” It’s probably as close to a fish as you’ll be all day, and I wanted to make sure you at least knew what one smelled like!”

Bill who up to this point had said very little burst into laughter and tossed back at Randy, “ Well if this jackass would fish in the water instead of the trees he might catch something too.” Joe turned and flipped a single finger at Bill who just laughed harder as he picked up his paddle and headed for the next hole of water.

Bill was a bit of a mystery to jack. They had met a few times, but he was truly a friend of Joe’s and not one that Randy seemed to know much about. He was about the same age as the others, but he still had a boyish looking face that held a semi vacant stare when you talked to him. He wasn’t stupid, but he always appeared to be about half stoned. As jack thought about this he remembered that the crowd Randy and Joe had run with was also into Cocaine and Marijuana, so chances were Bill and Joe had smoked a joint on the way to the river this morning. It would explain why he was so quiet and his vacant look.

Jacks first fish came just a few minutes after Randy had landed his. Another small mouth, it was larger than the one Randy had landed. It too had hit a top water lure and in the struggle to get the fish into the boat, had wrapped itself around a tree limb that hung down into the river. Randy had paddled over to the limb and Jack had reached into the water and grabbed the fish by the mouth as he pulled the limb up putting pressure on the short length of line between the limb and the fish.
He put the fish on his stringer and they backed away from the bank to continue fishing.

Randy paddled them out to towards another small bunch of standing timber and began to ask Jack questions. “ When you have to start the new job?” he asked. “Two weeks “ jack answered. “When you planning on moving?” “Well RJ, I don’t really know.” “They offered temporary housing until I could get settled, so I will probably go ahead and head up that way then worry about moving.”
Randy fell silent and they continued to fish along the edge of the standing timber. Jack tried again to empty his mind, but couldn’t let go of the uncertainty he felt about changing jobs and moving. It was risk, but everything in life was a risk if you thought about it. He knew the changes taking place in his life would effect others and the responsibility he felt for others was what drove the guilt he felt. This was something he wanted to do for himself. A selfish act by him that would turn lives upside down, uproot the foundations he had built, and cause everyone involved to re-think some of the things they thought were true. Did he have the right to make such choices?

Randy picked up his paddle and began to move them down the river towards the next hole of water. Jack continued to fish along the sides of the river by casting as close to the bank as he could and retrieving the lure in quick steady movements. As they entered the riffle that separated the two hole of water, jack picked up his paddle and added a few strokes to help center them on the vee of running water ahead. They glided through the riffle and slowed down as they hit the still water that lay below. Turning the canoe with a few strokes of is paddle they both began fishing the edges of the faster water as they sat in the eddy just below and to the right of the riffle.

Joe’s voice boomed out across the water and assaulted the silence. “ Hey you two!! Caught anything like this?” he said as he held up a 15 inch small mouth with great pride. Randy looked at the fish across the 50 ft of water that separated the two boats and smiled  “Nice fish Joe!” “Make sure you check its eyes.”  “Look at its eyes?” Bill asked. “ Yeah, I figured any fish Joe caught must be blind and he just happened to snag it because the poor thing couldn’t see to get out of his way.” “It’s a given the damned thing must be deaf” added Jack. “Otherwise it would have heard you two coming and been gone long before you got within your 20 foot casting range” Randy laughed at this and added “ Just like you Joe, to pick on the handicapped.”

Bill laughed at the barbs thrown Joe’s way and immediately suffered from Joe’s attention. “ What you laughing at ****  head?” “ I haven’t seen you catch anything yet.” He then turned to Randy and Jack “ You two caught anything?” He asked. “ Not a thing other than the one you saw” answered Randy. Jack didn’t say a word. “ Well you two better get in the ball, or I’m going to not only have the biggest fish on this trip but the most” laughed Joe. “I would hate to have to go back to work and let every one know I had out fished you two” he said with a satisfied grin.

Randy and Jack laughed as they picked up their paddles and headed down stream. “ We’ll see you two in a little while.” Jack yelled over his shoulder as they passed Bill and Joe who were still fishing along the cut bank that had produced Joe’s prize. Paddling slowly they passed through the next set of small rapids and let the canoe drift as they both began to fish in earnest. Neither of them was eager for Joe to come away from this trip with the biggest or the most fish. They enjoyed ragging him about his fishing the same way Joe ragged everyone he played golf with.

The next hole of water was long and narrow. The river took a slight bend after it left the riffles and veered to left about 100 yards, then back to the right in a slow curve. Jack caught a small mouth just below the riffle when they were floating through, and  Randy slowed the canoe to a stop as he brought it in. “nice one” Randy said as he saw the mossy black colored back swirl at the  side of the canoe. Jack reached down and grabbed it by the lower lip as he hoisted it into the boat. “Not bad” he replied, and put it onto the stringer.

As Jack checked his line, Randy cast his lure into a small eddy and slowly brought it back towards the boat. Jack’s thoughts turned to the changes taking place in his life as he too threw his lure into the eddy.

No one guarantied that life would be easy. He knew that. He also had thought about the chance that he would regret some of the decisions he was making. Fear of change and fear of being wrong had kept him from pursuing his dreams. He knew the fear he felt now, threatened to again rule him.

“Why don’t you do as well as your sister?” had been thrown at him growing up by well meaning adults. He had absorbed for years the feeling of not measuring up to others expectations. As he had grown, those feelings had left him always second-guessing himself, always knowing he wasn’t as good as those around him.

They pulled three more fish out of that long hole of water. One jack caught was all of 17 inches long. A very nice fish for a small river like this. They had quietly unhooked each fish as it was pulled in, and added them to their stringers, careful always to stay out of Joe’s sight.

At the end of the hole, they paddled the canoe into the shore and got out on a small gravel bar to stretch. Randy walked down the few yards to the end of the riffle and looked at the next hole of water as Jack reached into the cooler and pulled out a soda for both of them. Grabbing a couple of sandwiches out of the cooler, he shut the lid and walked down to where Randy stood watching the river.

“I never get tired of this” Randy said as he took the soda and one sandwich. Jack looked at him and grinned, “Don’t know how anyone could”, then turned and walked back towards the canoe as he lit a cigarette. He sat at the edge of the river, listening to the words that lay underneath.

© Copyright 2003 Cpat Hair - All Rights Reserved
Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

1 posted 2003-01-28 12:15 PM


I will be back....been one of those days....

wranx
Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689
Moved from a shack to a barn
2 posted 2003-01-28 03:02 AM


I'll be back as well.
This took me back to June, when 5 friends and I floated a 45 mile stretch of the Clarion river over 5 days....The fishing was glorious (we caught and released over 450 Smallmouth....and no, we weren't trout fishing).
The rough camps were comfortable enough and the rapids were just rapid enough to make it.....interesting in overloaded canoes.

Damn, but it was fine!

Oh! And I can tell that you are no stranger to this same pursuit.

Good readin' dude

Ed...

regards2you
Member Elite
since 2002-10-01
Posts 3940
California
3 posted 2003-01-28 07:53 AM



Ron,

I was glad to come across this piece of writing while checking out forums to discover what else was on this site.

I especially like this because it gives me a chance to see a writer create four distinct characters, vivid scenery and life in general, in a seemingly lazy, hazy day, matter of fact way, as life goes on...

Very layered subtle nuances.... about many 'things' from the male perspective. Important, life changing aspects which control others lives as well. Much built in here. I know these men...each unique, yet they are brothers, sons, husbands, fathers, neighbors, friends... I think you developed them well in a short period of time. You captured anguish, guilt and shame well, and fear of changing...I liked the closing lines very much, comparing comfort of known to a future of unknowns.  
I am so glad to have been able to read and study this a tad....Kind of surprised how seemingly a low key presentation can pack such a wallop for the water and canoes and people still have an impact on my mind as I write this....

Thank you for posting your work here.  Enjoyed,  Pat

..without surrender, be on good terms with all persons..
        "Desiderata"

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

4 posted 2003-01-28 08:22 AM


In August, the temperature was still mild. The heat of late summer had never materialized while late season rains kept the hillsides and valleys green with verdant coats of green. Early mornings filled the valleys with fog that lay thick until late over the rivers and late afternoon sunshine cascaded through treetops to dance in dappled wonder on the ground.
It was an August to remember. Remembered for the unusual.

Jack was affected by the changes too. His life had been turned upside down by problems at home, a job offer, and a general unease that had crept into his life like the fog that covered the valley below him. Decisions had to be made. He knew they would not be easy ones to make or to live with, but he knew they had to be made. Guilt stuck to him lately like a wet T-shirt after a soaking rain. It at times was not so bad, but it always ended up making him feel chilled when the winds of doubt blew.  He had no choice but to shiver.
=====================================

Smiling to himself, he knew it must be Randy. He always drove that old black truck like it was a tank. Rattling and banging in the back would be his aluminum canoe and two dozen other assorted things he had loosely tied down. Looking down the road, he saw the truck emerge from a corner barely ahead of the dust cloud that was billowing up from the tires.

He turned back to his thoughts about the river, and realized one of the reasons he loved the river and being on it had to do with the way it changed. A living thing… with every rain or dry spell the river re-created itself. New shorelines were born from flood or drought and around each turn, one never knew what tree had fallen or what new pothole scoured out.  He laughed as the old black truck drew closer, when he realized the thing that had so attracted him to the river, was the same thing that was causing the stress in his life. Change…

The old black Chevy rattled to a stop as a cloud of dust chased it to the river.  The door opened with a sound much like the noise a cat makes when you accidentally step on its tail
=====================================


So much here to savor ... the imagery..the analogies of nature to define the charaters emotions ... the developement of each character...the banter and bonds of friendship set on a current of water and of life. The attention to detail so that the reader is transported there...the setting, tho normally a backdrop for the story...became the centerpiece of the story...we felt the rivers presence.

So I had fish for breakfast with me tea
Loved this Capt...had a big smile on my face at the cat screeching truck door...I dont think my grandpa ever had a truck that didnt have that squeak. I thought it came standard on those old Fords You brought many other memories back as well. I grew up on many of Missoiuri's rivers and lakes with my grandparents being avid fishermen ( and women) Grandma was known for her stinkbait and Wheaties balls
I never cared much for fishing...I liked casting..lol...but didnt have the patience to sit still waiting on the fish..but instead played in the water and explored the banks...I know my love and need for being around water came from those times.
Thanks for the memories you brought back...
excellent story telling poet sir....
and ya know whats the best part?
The title means there is MORE ....
the moth will be waiting

Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.
We fell them down and turn them into paper that
we may record our emptiness.

K.G.

Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

5 posted 2003-01-28 09:18 AM


Ed... sounds like it was one of those trips you remember forever. Nothing is ever the same after a day on the river. hope you found some enjoyement in my musings.

Pat... you are too kind. thanks for taking the time to read and for the very nice words.

Moth... ( chucklng) Well... missouri rivers are sort of like anything seductive... they are bound to cause you both joy and anguish.
appreciate your taking time to read...and for the nice words.


Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
6 posted 2003-01-28 09:29 AM


...He sat at the edge of the river, listening to the words that lay underneath. ...

Never stop listening, or sharing...

Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

7 posted 2003-01-28 10:18 AM


Sunshine... thank you... whether in flood or dry spells... the words are always there..the tones they are spoken in just change as do the seasons and our understanding of the meanings.

Kielo
Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109

8 posted 2003-01-29 10:05 PM


*grin* I must say, I saw this at first, and was rather daunted by the length. I didn't bother to read it then, but today I finally did, and I was glad. This was an amazing piece of writing. I wish my parents hadn't sold the canoe.

Kielo

I know only one thing, and that thing is that I know nothing.

Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

9 posted 2003-02-03 08:00 AM


Keilo... thank you for wading through.
I'm glad you found something in it enjoyable. As for the canoe, I only wish I could use mine more... maybe next time you'd like to go along?


Post A Reply Post New Topic ⇧ top of page ⇧ Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.
navwin » Main Forums » Passions in Prose » Excerpt

Passions in Poetry | pipTalk Home Page | Main Poetry Forums | 100 Best Poems

How to Join | Member's Area / Help | Private Library | Search | Contact Us | Login
Discussion | Tech Talk | Archives | Sanctuary