Sonnet 1 - Sea Trout
Fast river on my thighs, an act of god.
The soft silvery arc of the sun caught line,
the swish and the wish of the long fly rod,
the singing of the line and the reels whine
and whipping back, line stripped off and out.
Line tightening strike! Straight as an arrow
from the bow of the rod to the Sea Trout
The fisher fights footing in the shallows.
And yet, as he struggles to win the match
the fish fights for life. Where does my heart lie?
Splash, sudden slack. Freedom! No more the catch.
Coffee cool in my tight right hand, I sigh.
And an untouched sandwich in my left hand
with fresh cucumber and salmon, canned.
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