Fishing on a Sunny Day

A quiet sunny afternoon with nothing better to do
than to go fishing in our pond with rod, reel and lure.
To cast and reel, and snag grasses green floating along
with nothing much on my mind, just humming a love song.
The sun flashing off the pond’s ripples from a light breeze,
not caring if the sport succeeds, just being outside, at ease.
When one of the few fish willing to play finally hits my line,
its small and after a moment of fight, it’s over and he’s mine.
There he lies, a tiny thing, with dark eyes, dark green, hook in lip.
He shows no sign of distress as he gives in, no longer trying to flip
and slip back into the water, it just surrenders itself to me,
and now it is me who’s on the hook, for I must set it free.
But the hook is set well, and my eyes are not quite as clear
as they once were, and this hook is stubborn and I now fear
I will kill this partner-in-sport of mine, as I struggle with haste
to free the hook, realizing I’m now vested with this fish’s fate.
Finally, I succeed, releasing him hurriedly, he swims quickly away
into green murky waters so we may play again some sunny day.

 

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