Tag Archives: fishing

Fresh Line

The lines of the times are all snarled the social reels gone bird`nests in twists loops naughty knots A fisherman can’t fish but sits for an hour in untangling the untanglable before giving up to chop the nest out start … Continue reading

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Summer`Drift

A solitary monarch butterfly landed on the tip of my rod a frequent perch in summer for the lacy blue dragonflies frequenting the coulee`basin where the river stacks up on a dam the deep water churning in giant whirlpools bending … Continue reading

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Fishing in Fire

The sun hangs a red ball in the early August sky filtered through wood ash It’s just one shade paler than the bloody moon filled the sky last night A breath’s hard to catch out on stagnant water tastes of … Continue reading

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Gone Fishing

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There Was a Day: 2016

There was a day in March months after the wild`fire when the scorched` hills broke out green the Columbia River bluer than the sky flowed east`west full to its banks There was a day in July the water so low … Continue reading

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Gone Fishing!

Gone Fishing Will be back in a week!

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The Fisherman

On the river among deep coulees we turn the motor off Let the boat drift down` stream to find its course Let the currents take us where`ever when`ever they will in a silence soft & sweet In their racks the rods … Continue reading

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The Song of the River

From a distance the river calls to me Come! Slip your keel into my steady flow Follow my lead Deep mysteries lie within my reach Secrets great & small of man chasing boy with line & hook My silver angels … Continue reading

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Avian Welfare

In the dead pine`snag birds sit in conference Seven large black crows on the upscale branches Thirteen white seagulls on the lower`rent ones awaiting the fish`cleaning that is about to get started in the shallows below them the crows mum … Continue reading

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Gone Fishing

I’ll be back in a week!

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Gone Fishing!

Gone Fishing! Be back in a week!

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

The Fish

She is a fine fish a bright spring morning in the morning sunlight hues of a rainbow She lies in my hand now Her fight all spent her gills quivering in air not created for her She tastes this air … Continue reading

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