Fishing
The long waiting game
of the fisherman attempting
to outsmart the prey.
To place a tempting lure.
Sometimes, out and exposed
others in a well veiled den.
Always hopeful for an elicited reaction.
Some days, a small nibble
is the only response
so small it often went unnoticed,
like a catfish with his feelers out
gingerly probing the edges
of his reaches cautiously
trying to solve the
mystery of his domain.
Other days, like a gold fish
in a piranha pool,
an out of place enigma.
I did cast out my net,
trawling for the sign.
Yet, it did not come aloud.
The echo of my discovery
a minute whisper.
I did angle daily,
hoping against despair
soliciting a revelation.
The dubious discovery
came at an unlikely time.
I then did plunge
hook, line, and sinker.
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