Catfish
My long run was serene,
mostly wooded.
A short section took me
out to the highway;
my least favorite part.
Three narrow bridges
to be crossed,
traffic buzzing
too close for comfort.
I walked the third bridge,
up next to the rail,
out of the way,
with a few moments
to just look.
There below, in the water,
A catfish swam upstream,
Lazily,
Tail swishing
back and forth,
back fin out of the water,
glistening, sparkling
in the sunlight.
And I marvelled and thought,
“Who is this for?”
And then I remembered:
He’s watching me
watching the fish.
And He’s never bored.
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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