Daily Fly Fishing Poem #24: Catch and Keep
Crushed limestone gravel of
The anglers’ lot. Done for the day
and seventeen new fish sweep their tails behind my eyelids.
A mink, an osprey, a great blue heron,
maples that are beginning to think about winter.
It’s catch and release here.
But I’m leaving nothing behind.
Sometimes I Take Fish
My visits to the catch and keep
are quiet. I go after grocery shopping,
stand on the bank, casting into the ponds,
plastic bag sticking out of my back pocket.
A one fly, single spool of tippet,
small pocket knife kind of affair.
Just before dusk when the world
is settling down, sometimes I take fish.