Tread Lightly the Salmon are Listening

Steelhead churn up the flank of the river,
four fishermen up to their knees
angle their lines into the sky,
I drive over the archway
twisting right at the roundabout,
jealous because it's Wednesday
and they must be taking the day off.
What did they say, "I'm sick,
I've got an appointment,
the kid's sick,
the kid's got an appointment"?
Maybe the boss was on the river too.
All I want to do is walk
that rock-filled shore
in the gold light of December.
Froze last night.
The river's down.
Not much wind
and thank God, no rain.




for Jerome at the fish tackle store




c2009 Flood Water Press