Morning Poem, April 27, 2015

(This came to me last night.  It should have been included in the poem I posted last night called “Late-Night Poem.”  But here it is.  I’ll put bothparts together and repost the whole thing later.)

 

He knew this one was a big one

The line stripped off the reel so fast

And carried across the river

“You better be careful with this one.”

He gave the fish slack

And, trembling with excitment and awe

Waited

He thought that the fish would never start again

And knew that he had missed his chance

That his hook was lying, cleaned

At the bottom of the river

But still he held and waited

His arms ached from holding the pole without moving

Till the fish moved again and the boy’s heart pounded

The fish went deep and the boy’s rod bent double

“Don’t pull too hard.  That thing’ll snap that line.”

He lowered the rod a bit and stayed there

Waiting, again, for the fish to move

But he did not move

And the boy pulled on the rod to test the fish

And the fish did not move and was so fixed

That the boy was convinced that his line was now snagged on a rock or root

But then the fish took off again, straightaway from the boy

And the line snapped and whipped out of the water

And curled in the night air toward the boy.

 

Copyright 2015

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