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.