On again, off again rain.
Changed the tackle in a downpour;
An act of will.
And back to where I hooked one yesterday
(and lost it).
Time to pack it in,
When right in front of me
A big fish
jumps out of the water.
I chase after him,
Clumsy in boots and waders
But he’s gone.
Mist and rain;
Trees and stream remain.
The big trout
Still plays with me;
What was it about?
September 28, 2020
poems for friends 
Nice one Harry. I sense the water and the scene!
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Harry, Just love your recent poem … ” Fall on the Battenkill ” … I could feel & vision, every second of your journey … Thanks, Jack …
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So glad you liked it and, of course, the Battenkill is something we share.
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