Dear fellow poets,

Try to vocalize
what you immortalize on paper.

Sincerely,
your courage.

Along a softly babbling stream
Moss covered trunks silently lean
Sunlight pours from on high down
Flies now idly ply around

A fisherman -me- on the bank sits
Floater bobbing, teasing fish
Sparrows idly flit softly by
While above the clouds now softly fly

The bugs, they flit from here to there,
While plants their flowers slowly bare,
Mosquitoes sound their droning whine
While stream trout nibble at baited line

Dappled bark and shaded stream
Memory hazy like a dream
I wish to travel back, back there
That timeless place, the Snake River

And this my idle classroom dream,
My heaven, fishing by a stream
Spins round and round my head at night
I'll go and grab my pole-first light

My french lime shirt,
tail flutters in the wind,
the ocean waves of teal,
continue rolling in.

The boat's spray is salty,
I taste it on my lips,
we bounce  up and down,
as we race on wave tips.

Slowing now to troll,
looking for exposed tails,
the seagulls above,
flap like winds in the sail.

Sliding in the water,
cold, causing a gasp,
a long 8 weight fly rod,
now firmly in grasp.

Bronze flashes in water,
tail shining in sun,
the bait swirls around me,
this is about to get fun.

Whipping the silver fly,
in a long backcast,
now flying forward,
landing soft and fast.

Twitch it now, ripples,
a V cuts the bay,
the hunting, tailing red,
is now on its way.

With a mighty splash,
it swallows the fly right down,
the mud is churning up,
the water turns brown.

Stripping line and reeling,
in the shining sun,
nowhere else could I be,
having so much fun.

Its in these waters, when I was merely a Parr
Or as you might refer to me as a fry,
This wise but young Brook Trout cruised the slow water with my kinfolk fry.

Moving to and fro hiding among the biome vegetation
The sunlight supported my living space and warmed my growth rings.
I dart in and out of the oxygenated seams which help me flourish.

Some days, I had to use stealth to outwit the pine marten and warblers,
I shadowed the cattail and watched them fill their bellies with those around me.
But I felt fate had a purpose for me to be something special.

And When the time was right, I'd propel myself above the water into the night air.
The large circle of orange light filled my eyes and the night sky was filled with luminary.
I imagined what it must be like to live outside this riffle domain.

This morning, through my refractory vision I spot some floating objects,
And through an inherited sensory recall I can see these are hatching green Drakes.
I immediately shoot to the surface and fill my stomach, then swim back to the undercut for cover.

As the years pass by and maturity abounds,  I find my self settling in behind a large boulder
Right at the tail out of the back eddy, providing me with an ample food supply.
And it's here I prefer to live my life in the slow current, content and peaceful.

And one day as I swam into the current seam, I spotted what appeared to be,
A different looking bug with yellow belly,  so I make my move.
He's not moving much so I decide to raise my head above the water line and sip.

As I grab the hopper I start to slide back behind the boulder,
When I feel a pinch, as if someone try's to pull me towards the surface
I fight with all my might but this force proves to be stronger than I.

It's now I realize a human reels me towards the shore line, and I'm fearful.
This one called a human, grabs my tail and places his hand on my under belly.
Pulling me from my home, he dislodges the hook from my mouth. I gasp for oxygen.

He looks me over from nose to tail, smiles and says how beautiful I am.
He looks me in the eye And says " This was a wonderful fight my friend, enjoy the rest of your life,
He places me back in water, gently reviving me and finally lets me swim away.

I dare to turn and look back at him for a moment and as he continues to watch me,
I hear him say " I fish, knowing everyday on this stream is a gift."

She walked out of the watercolor storm of a fresco
Like a cowl-bound form in a light drizzle of rain,
Her mosaic tiles of ancient lovers’ eyes, ceramic-borne,
Just as her hips held the curves of the urn, kiln-fired,
The coiled heat of Greece still stinging through her flesh.

For her, the treetops had been the summoners of storm,
In kind, she poured down the wet grove of her hair, electral,
Pantheress of humid breath and fanged flair of lightning,
Tamed once in the cloudy cage of Pentelic marble of the Parthenon.

But the world piled dust before her, baiting with its groveled roads,
For her black mullings, much-tasted rain, and heaven’s leaves to fall.
If only the Michelango-to-come had carved the clouds of her
For the light to remain, shining its centuries,
Then maybe the thunder would have been left undone.

Behind those almond eyes,
lied an unexplored Nebula.
For all the men she had
given her time to,
only sought to
appreciate her surface.
Far too afraid to drown
in her depths.
To get lost in her mysteries,
consumed by her magick,
and transformed by her love...