August 2011
25 posts
Intimations of Mortality
by Jim Yaussy Albright
A late August evening on the lake.
All seems calm, but
everything is hurtling at breakneck speed
through time and space.
Each day dies a little more;
each coming of summer dark presages
the impending onset of the season of darkness.
The trout know, and rush to intercept
the swirling fragments of life that will
stave off starvation in the ice time.
They fight the...
3 tags
Twilight
by Jim Yaussy Albright
Twilight.
The lake rises and falls in long cool breaths.
An eagle skims the last glow of sunset,
folds itself into shadowy pines.
Loons call down the darkness.
A flurry of bats flits out the last light.
Ducks rush overhead with a sound like tearing velvet.
Stars pour down, and
trout pluck them from the surface
one by one.
4 tags
For the Trout
by Greg Keeler
I. CUTTHROAT
You were here first.
I can see why in
the way the rivers don’t
rob you of what the streams gave.
The dim rosettes on your
sides live beyond your spots
in another time
as if Lewis and Clark were
still planning to meet near
water and could never stop.
And the thin orange slashes
on your throat will always
be proof. No matter how
the...
4 tags
Damselfly, Trout, Heron
by John Engels
The damselfly folds its wings
over its body when at rest. Captured,
it should not be killed
in cyanide, but allowed to die
slowly: then the colors,
especially the reds and blues,
will last. In the hand
it crushes easily into a rosy
slime. Its powers of flight
are weak. The trout
feeds on the living damselfly.
The trout leaps up from the water,
...
Trout Fishing
by Eunice B Lamberton
Give me a rod of the split bamboo, a rainy day and a fly or two, a mountain stream where the eddies play, and mists hang low o’er the winding way.
Give me a haunt by the furling brook, a hidden spot in a mossy nook, no sound save hum of the drowsy bee, or lone bird’s tap on the hollow tree.
The world may roll with its busy throng and phantom scenes on it’s...
3 tags
The Trout
by James Laughlin
A trout let us say
a blue blonde trout
that slips through
the bars like water
from boite to boite
from man to man but
only ones she likes
and almost never for
money and I love she
says I love exagger-
ate and her mother
asked the neighbors
qu’est-ce que j’ai
fait au ciel pour
avoir une fille qui
est de...
