It couldn’t have been more perfect.
6:30 a.m.
A little cloudy;
Warm but not hot or muggy.
The river clear,
The current strong but not raging.
Outfitted with a new set of flies
and advice from the guy at Orvis,
I picked a sexy, sparkling one
And tied it on.
Irresistible.
Someone forgot to tell the fish
Is there a God
In this most dystopian time?
Is it too much to ask that he
encourage a trout to take a nibble?
August 23, 2021
(Love this new one by Nancy Hanks)
I used to run an operation
We
We used to run an operation
Now I am
We are fishing on the Battenkill
And setting fly traps in Northeast Philadelphia
Dodging reckless drivers
The river sparkled, flowing free.
Water everywhere — underfoot, along the road.
We trudge, we trudged, we trudged
To the end
And it never ended
It was Sunday morning;
Up and ready as the day was dawning,
greeted by light rain;
What’s fun without some pain?
Could go either way;
So I started the day
with waders, boots, waterproof jacket;
Grabbed the net and staff, rod and reel.
Headed for the Battenkill.
It began to pour, but I pushed on.
The river was swift, a siren song.
The rain was steady;
But I was ready.
Line and leader became a tangle.
No choice really, no good angle
Time to head for home,
I was all alone.
August 11, 2021
It was Sunday morning;
Up and ready as the day was dawning,
To be greeted by light rain;
What’s fun without some pain.
Could go either way;
So I start the day
with waders, boots, waterproof jacket,
net and staff, rod and reel.
Headed for the Battenkill.
It began to pour, but I pushed on.
The river was swift, a siren song.
The rain was steady;
But I was ready.
Anticipating the days events —
Pushed on, ever braver;
Ready to defy the elements
Even as the rain grew heavier.
Line and leader became a tangle.
Time to head for home,
No choice really, no good angle.
I was all alone.
Captain Ahab without Moby Dick.
August 1, 2021
poems for friends 