A poem I wrote some time ago reflecting on an afternoon and evening spent river fishing.
Collie River Fishing
the river slips by, unhurried
rain-swollen and muddied
washing a brackish tide
waterbirds dive and swim,
skimming effortlessly over
the silvered river glass
mist rises like a shroud
to soften the greying twilight air
cold fingers test the line
waiting for bream
that do not bite
till day fades to
sparkling with winter stars
chilled but peaceful
rise to go.
© 2021 Nan Hewitt
Nan Hewitt (author) from Albany, Western Australia on March 04, 2021:
Thanks. Happy memories I hope.
John Hansen from Gondwana Land on March 04, 2021:
I love your great descriptions, and I can imagine being one of the fisher-folk. This brings back some memories.
BRENDA ARLEDGE from Washington Court House on March 03, 2021:
I've never quite took part in fishing like this.
I just go to the pond and toss my line in for awhile.
But it seems like you have described the long day in the life of a fisherman.
It sounds quite peaceful, which is one reason I do like the water.
Time to think.
Too bad nothing bites.