A poem of fragments of a day spent on a fishing trip.
|Awake in the dark … all packed and away,
riding down country roads when dawn’s
reds and yellows light up the day.
Driving to the lake, boat in the water,
skimming across the surface, spray in face,
settling down into a quiet cove –
should be fish in this place!
Enjoying the warm April sunshine,
every ripple capturing the sun’s sparkle,
the day starting out just fine.
Laughter, friendship, and good cheer,
a green-headed mallard glides into sight,
paddling away before coming too near.
An eagle perches in the middle of the lake,
atop a lone tree – a skeleton blanched white
with bare, stubby arms outstretched, where
he sits eagle-eyeing for a fish to take.
Under a cloudless cerulean canopy,
floating upon a surface of brown glass,
fish and fowl a true delight to see.
Driving home on the interstate highway,
blood red clover and yellow wild flowers
slathered generously in a vibrant display …
what a simply marvelous spring day!
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