evening poem, april 1, 2016

He stands in the broad river, a dark silhouette in the distance

The sun behind is on the western horizon, the late summer day fades

The laughing water around already silvered by the moon.

His straw hat and khaki vest.  He lifts the long rod like a wand

And the line lifts off of the shallow below and curls aloft

The bend moving as in slow motion and whipping as it reaches the end

He bends the rod forward and the line straightens and then curls forward

Dropping once again into the pool below.  And the river keeps running.

 

Copyright 2016

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s