Sat on the bridge.
Legs dangling, swinging in the breeze.
Look closely and little skittish fishes flying like sunlit darts.
Throwing twigs in, so naughty is what we are.
We just love watching them drifting and riding the tide.
Oh look, there's a bigger fish, not a minnow or a stickleback, a little trout maybe.
Gone to quickly, won't be tonight's tea.
A flash of vibrant colour.
Faster than light.
The strike of the kingfisher.
Doubtlessly he caught our trout.
(c)Livvi