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ONE CATCH (spreading wings shop)

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.


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

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


was that fish? Was it thiiisssss big? LoL
I can see me on that lake, paddling that johnny-boat, toward that old log, wondering if there is supper waiting for it's supper.
I know for the sake of keeping the workshop moving, that we have to keep the poems brief, but I would loved to have kept going to the fry-pan and the smell of butter and fish, the taste of it and the relaxing feeling of an ice-cold beer on the back porch. But hey, you got me thinking it, soooo... Nice stuff! ~Geez.

Leuciscvs cephalns.

It bends for thee
sweet, Chevin.
this cane thats
cleaved by three,

wilt thou now
sweet, Chevin.
yield, and bend, for me.

I see your, Bass.
And raise you a, Carp.


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