Poetry

Alone he watches the water ripple,
without movement
he waits with the line going in quite deep,
in a moment
the muddy water stirs in little circles,
tense enjoyment
goes through the boy as line sings, starts running,
he jerks the rod, the fish jumps, it’s stunning
 
with its golden silver scales glittering,
it dips under
and the fight is on as it twists and turns,
quick like thunder
again it jumps and twists back to escape,
without blunder
the boy reels in, still better hooking it,
over the river fighting bit by bit.