Re: Fishing

Home Forums Critique Central Poetry Fishing Re: Fishing



The sun’s sleepy heat
Sweeps across my back
Into the pond I can see
The brown fish

Sitting heavy in thick weeds
My shadow gazes
A prize so close

Softly I pull back
Long flung bait
Across the water it threads
With its stubborn pull

Rattle like a quake
I readjust, then
Snap, liquid quick
In sandy clouds