Wednesday, March 03, 2010


Like a bull bass cruising
the weedy edge of a quiet pond,
she patrols a sun dappled patch
of living room rug.

Your quarries are old and wise;
You will not catch them easily.
The fly selection and cast must be perfect.
There can be no sign of fakery,
or it’s no sale.

Toss a catnip mouse within paw range and
you may as well have pitched a rock into the pond;
she will ghost away with a scornful tail flip
just as he will instantly disappear.

Both want something interesting,
something that honks them off
by daring to invade their turf:
It’s a Bass fly then, a goggle-eyed
baby frog or mousy, who’s appearance says,
“Oh no! I’m tiny, juicy and weak!”

Once fly hits rug/pond, performance is key;
a pregnant pause, one good twitch,
another pause, another twitch
and if it’s all good, they hit
like lightning coming to ground.

That’s a big if, of course;
but then, if you have to catch to have fun,
you’re not patient enough to fish.

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