Spent the weekend in the book;
Reading how to land the fish you hook.
Position your rod right.
keep the line tight.
Let the fish run;
Until it’s done.
I was so ready this morning.
Up at sunrise;
On the Battenkill
As first light’s dawning.
Calm; beautiful.
A perfect day.
But so intent on my lessons;
I don’t watch the trout play.
One nibble;
No bite.
Headed home.
Humbled.
Ready, but not too ready;
Let come what may;
The fish will be there
on another day.
June 20, 2022
Lovely…… and so will you❣️
LikeLike
The poet laureate of the Battenkill is back!
LikeLike
Really cool poem!
Sent from my iPhone
>
LikeLike
Best poem yet. There is just a sliver of difference between the words and the actual experience; between the poet and nature. It is effortless writing [or so it appears] of the first order. Markedly better than first attempts. I’m beginning to be dazzled. . . .
LikeLike
Thanks Warren. I really worked on making it “effortless.” Your liking it so much means a lot to me.
LikeLike
Yes, another day… Congratulations Harry!
LikeLike