There is a small log
on the shelf above my desk
more stick than actual log
common driftwood
plucked from the lake I spent
the summers of my youth

on a just-passing-through
visit twenty-odd-years after I last
stayed there, revisiting the shore
that log bobbing gently in the
shallows, I knew

Idea stolen from vintage
cartoon postcard I remember
from those days
two fishermen in a boat;
on lake bottom beneath them
large log festooned with
wide-array of captured lures
snagged fish lines
uproarious-when-you’re-nine
caption:
“This is the spot where we
tangled with those
tackle busters
yesterday!”

That deli-salami-sized log
now memory-ornate
canvas on display
various lures from grandpa’s
ancient tackle box
intricate wood, elaborate steel
decoys of varying awe
some whimsical,
each legit, most
never caught a fish

My amateur artist’s eye says
probably not
MoMA worthy
though it frames me
so well, so clearly
memories, lessons, moments
foundational

So it is
in the eye of this beholder
my masterwork
art on permanent exhibit
this show only closes
when I do

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2026