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River's End

At the foot of the Elbow, just above the Bow, an angler drowned his feet caught in a shopping cart split-cane rod still firmly in his grasp. On the Grand just below the Gorge, another died opening weekend, high water few details are known. At the Whirlpool below Niagara Falls bodies surface sporadically but few are anglers. When I go, I hope it’s in my waders but miles of rivers remain before my rods pass to you.

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Robert Lindley

Date: 8/2/2015 9:03:00 AM

I do not fish much anymore. I once fished often bass, catfish, brim, etc.. A great poem my friend. So aptly named too....A7

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 8/2/2015 9:14:00 AM

Thanks Robert, they say that a day fishing does not count in yuor allotted days so do try to get out again. This was written a while back and now I have rods from both my father-in-law and father,some of which I built. There may be another poem in there someday.

Sara Kendrick

Date: 4/25/2015 3:53:00 PM

I hope that you go quietly into that dark night not in a horrible drowning..I enjoyed reading your work..I did not know that many people died fishing though..Thanks for the visit to my page..Sara

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 4/26/2015 8:49:00 AM

Sara, Thanks for your vist, i'm glad you enjoyed it. No fishing is not a particularity dangerous activity but there are occasional accidents. Slightly off topic, there is a great fishing incident in Robert Altman's film "Shot Cuts" bases on Raymond Carver’s classic story “So Much Water So Close to Home,”

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 3/28/2015 9:51:00 PM

hmm, you make it sound a bit dangerous of a sport. Fishing is not for me, but I think it is cool that you like it so much. Very nice poem.

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 3/31/2015 1:32:00 PM

Thanks Andrea. I suspect fishing itself is less dangerous than driving to the fishing hole but it does give one time for solitary thought. This was written many years ago but as I get older, I do find myslef musing about our final passage.

Cona Adams

Date: 3/24/2015 8:49:00 AM

Once a fisherman, always a fisherman, right, Dave? We remember fishing in the Missouri River in Montana, where the river is spring fed, and rainbow trout swim greedily to your bait. Loved this.

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 3/27/2015 4:57:00 PM

Tanks Cona, I've yet to fish Montana rivers but have been on may in Alberta & BC and a few in Colorado - damn I'm missing mountains already.

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 3/19/2015 11:45:00 AM

Dave:) Thank you so much for the reply. That was nice of you to comment my comment. ((regarding the bottom reply)) Always ~LINDA~

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 3/18/2015 12:48:00 AM

it's awsome when you a write that brings you such imagery and paints a picture with words, enjoyed this one ... i myself am not a fishing fan or eating lol just can't bring myself to try, have a great night,.. p.d. was here:)

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 3/18/2015 7:04:00 AM

Thanks Linda all the best with Zach

Barbara Gorelick

Date: 2/25/2015 6:11:00 PM

I love to fish and I hope you fish until the sun goes down...enjoyed your poem. BG

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 2/26/2015 9:14:00 AM

Thanks Barbara, pretty well ice bound but definitely loking forward to spring. Tight lines Dave

Jan Allison

Date: 2/25/2015 4:59:00 PM

I love the final stanza especially -hope it is many years before this happens. I understand there are quite a few deaths of anglers evrey years - not quite the relaxing safe sport I once thought!:-( Hugs Jan xx 7 xx

D.W. Rodgers
Date: 2/26/2015 9:07:00 AM

Thanks Jan, I wrote this a while and used it to fill in a fisheries chapter newsletter I was editing at the time. (My second 'published" poem although self-published in this case). It gained true more significance when my father passed several years ago and I ended up taking back rods I'd built for him.