He Stopped His Slow Jog

He stopped his slow jog along
the trail to watch the fly-fisher

cast beautifully back and forth,
back and forth and then the final

gracious thrust only to have the
fly land softly on the surface of

the water. The trail, the pond,
the fisher, the cast, the landing.

If I were the fish, I would have
said this is all so beautiful,

I just have to bite.

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