by Alden Hardee

Created on: June 09, 2009

The Joys of Fishing

Salty air fills my lungs
Water laps at my heels
My face glows with the warming sun
As it casts long shadows and spells.
I set down my tackle in the blue of the shade
Under the strong limbs of an oak.
I stop to breathe in the river and feel
Countless memories rush through me on its lucid currents.
These are the joys of a long day fishing,
Being at peace, and simply to feel.

As I tie on my lure
Ambushers unseen break the river's calm
With waves of thunder on the water.
I cast my plug into the heart of this living minefield
And watched as it dipped and danced on the surface
Till it was swallowed by hungry waters
In a violent golden boil.
My reel screamed with excitement,
The wind whistled nervously against the burdened line.
And today I find that the joys of fishing,
Are the long fights and even longer tales.

Now there's salt in my hair, in my skin, in my lungs,
And oysters chewed my feet to pulp.
My red skin feels hot and tight,
leathered by the warming sun.
I've hooked this shade oak four times now,
And I smell of seafood long expired.
And right now it seems the only real joys of fishing
Are the ones in the cooler, on the ice.

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