... fishing ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... summer ...


in the silent summer

the catfish mingle in the mud

and come up every evening

for tasty bits of dried out

distant cousins.

hundreds of shiny gray

backs flail about in

the cool water.

and orgy of eating.

i admire their relentless

pursuit of food.

it is that same pursuit

that we share,

as I drop my chicken liver

baited hook into

the murky water

waiting to pull

him ashore.

and pull him ashore, i will.


6 thoughts on “catFish

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