catch and release
the weather turned midday
as a warmish sun gave way
to coldish clouds and variable winds
nearly knee deep in blackish
backwaters
rainbow trout suddenly start
striking at mini-jigs
hand and eye react instinctively
despite scattered thoughts
racing past
slippery rocks in river bed
patience is like an acquired taste
(you tell yourself)
best served in solitary confines
the cool waters gradually
drop in temperature
yet you continue to wade
further away
dead set on an eddying pool
silently calling your name
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Maybe I have never understood the point of fishing if you’re not hungry.