Angler
by Cy Dillon
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Wading in
The river's smooth embrace
Trys to lift me
While the tenuous anchor of my feet on earth
Resists current born of mountains
Two days' walk away
It is a grip I can only bear an hour or two
Now that the cold seeps into the water from long dark nights
Still I love the solid pull
The touch of life following its course
I have learned to drift the lure in an arch that moves
With the moving lives of bass and trout
Mimicking something of value to them
Lying well in this world of beautiful lies
The river has time enough to hold my deception
And fishes-- indiscrete appetites
Without favoring either
It flows
We love it
It flows
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