- Non-Erotic Poetry
- November Steelhead
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Click hereWith the weak November sun
and high treed bank
the deep dark pool waters
reflect no light nor sign
of silver fish beneath the surface
Silent save for the murmur
of a downstream riffle
and the kingfisher’s rattle
then a tug on my line
the screech of the reel’s drag
a splash a glimpse of a fresh steelhead
The tug inow a frantic upstream run
I bite my lip and taste my blood
then my line goes slack the fish is free
and the reel stem cold between my fingers
- COMMENTS
29wordsforsnowover 2 years agoYes, I know it's about man vs fish. But it also feels like an allegory on poetry. The inspiration of a catchword in the morning that lets you walk into the river of thoughts and emotions, sometimes waiting for hours - maybe in vain - till it bites, and then you let go, returning your catch back into the river, a challenge for others to try their luck.
Well caught!
Piscatorover 2 years agoAuthorThanks Mayday, one of the many fish and angling books in my library has a chapter on how the tug
is the apex of the fishing experience because it is always unexpected and what happens before and after more matters of technique. It's good to know the experience has been shared.
Maydaypilotover 2 years agoDamn. That last line so perfectly different! You may have missed the fish but you captured the moment. I can still feel the thrashing.
I enjoyed every detail of the scene from the bank.
