Fly Fishing: Or a fisherman to his fish

Descend from the banks
of the river
While afternoon summerlight catches bugs in dance
wade through baptismal ripples
A pole’s flail
A perfectly constructed flick
sends a hook
A fly
A string
Arked in hope
Waiting to take up
To feel the tug of hunger
And under the meniscus
Among the currents swirling
You’ve bitten
You bite back
And bring forth to me
Your glistening gills
Your rainbow opalescent sheen
Your breathing
Slippery fins of you
pulled from the water
From the span
of the wide river

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