One more stroke
of cypress paddle,
that my dad made,
in crystal waters
of a calm lake.

And this old jon boat
glides forward a bit
leaving hardly a ripple behind;
then coasts to a stop.

My nine foot fly rod
of split bamboo
whips gracefully
as a magician's wand
with just a whhiiiiissp
of line through guides.

A minuscule pause
while line straightens out
behind me..
then with a wrist flip
I power the line forward.

It drops with its passenger,
a foam body spider,
exactly where I want
right next to a shallow stump.
where I let it lie...and lie
until all is still..

Then with trees reflecting
off mercurial water
I move the fly the slightest bit
-------
The peace ENDS
as a bass explodes
sending water spraying
as it jumps shaking its head

A short fight
then supper is subdued
and line is checked for frays.

then

One more stroke.............