Sunday, April 12, 2009

Spring Trolling






With frozen hands,
tossed around on Cayuga's cruelest April waters,
I wallow in prehistoric pike snot, smelling of my youth.
Whenever I twist longnose pliers to treble hook shank, my grandfather is near,
although I never called him "grandfather".

Cagey meanwhile soldiers on, defending our shores and loved ones
from the German immigrants, more democratic than the natives,
as they bring the depths of the lake up, up, up
into the towns, forests and fields
during the uncertain verb seasons.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Impressive! PK

Jim Tantillo said...

that's a big fish

Ernie said...

Lake looks fairly calm for the day it actualy was! Are you sure this is Keith's catch or his head transposed on a better day of fishg for someone else?

KGT (aka Cagey) said...

I keep coming back to the masterful poetry...nice work Rich.