So the wind and rain blew 
such that the oceans knew 
they were to be displaced 
by land with a lot of space 
to form an imitation sea,  
its separate little entity. 

Then the lake which I knew 
was created out of the blue 
to complement the view 
of prickly hills rolling through. 
Spines of pines line the skyline, 
sutures to stitch the atmosphere 
to the earth. 

The yellow sun is framed  
in a slowly moving ballgame, 
being tossed by the shadowed team 
in the air to the western green. 
There is only one pitch and catch per day 
because the hot ball constantly runs away 
but at night they still can play 
when the black ball is substituted by  
a cool baseball of whitish-gray. 

  
The rain is important to entice little skinny slimy crawly squirmly pinkly wormly worms 
to the surface of the soil so hunters in preparation may garner them.  
  

This nature had the fortune, 
some years ago, to host us humans 
for a while for me to fish in and enjoy. 
I brought my family there too, 
no, they were forced to come 
after thinking what they could have done 
instead. 
They had to drive so they drove  
down to a parking grove. 
On the path in the park, 
it took us a 20 minute walk 
to reach the bend in the lane 
where the road dipped down again. 
Towards the shelf of artificial rocks 
we made, 
out of the trees, out of the shade, 
to go into the sunny glade. 

The water began to wink at me 
deliberately 
as my vision of the pond 
unlidded itself suddenly. 

It was in the shape of an oval or more or less so, like a lake you know, with fleeting jagged edges of water which keep kneeding the shore.  No sand rimmed the water, waves rather rammed the soil made banks, but the dirt failed to soil the water.     

With the sight of the light 
I felt hot and almost forgot 
why I had decided to come, 
lost words from my tongue. 
My forehead under my cap 
was becoming wet with sweat, 
the shirt clung to my back; 
and the long Bugle Boy pants  
I wore to keep out stinging flies  
kept in the respiration products 
and like tights pulled at my skin 
every which way with movement. 
  

The tackle was set up 
and baits put in place 
when all in a bustle 
we began the race. 
Unmentioned, unspoken, but firmly understood 
was the glamour in catching the first of the brood. 

A flick of the wrist 
should do the trick 
to cast the line out 
to float about. 
But inexperience showed us how 
to twist the waist and say with an ow 
how hard it is to throw a lightweight. 
Because the wormed hook kept squiggling around 
over our shoulders we could not but expound 
oh how clumsy it is to set out. 
The lines kept tangling and twirling and knotting itself 
that we could not help but to sort all this out. 
With the poles still pointing from out our backs, 
in the opposite direction that they should be, 
we one by one mousetrapped it down 
and heard it hit ground with a big smack. 
We forgot to release the levers to let the line flow free 
that it got swung with a yoyo’s liberty. 

Seeking a report from the daredevil pilots  
we concluded they did survive it 
and could now continue down to the sea. 

A second ballerina throw 
landed it close. 
A second windshield sweep 
landed it deep. 

I imitate the motions of my dad 
and the third one turned out not so bad. 
Content that the real fishing had started 
my mother and sister departed 
for their walking exercise  
away from all these flies. 

Rather than nothing to do with my hands on the reel, 
I was busy fanning patrons of my meal- 
that is me to say chasing every winged thing away 
from my face. 

Hey he caught one said my dad 
and the bobbin indeed had 
skinny dipped in the water clearly 
from an opposite force to buoyancy. 
Quick did I jerk upwards on the string 
and quickly backed up to bring 
the catch closer  
to the shore. 
Keeping a tension so the hook would hold 
in case it wasn’t in the fish’s mouth mold, 
I walked further back and tilted the pole so far back 
that I couldn’t continue to bring in more string 
this way that I began to say Hey  
use the reel and I can stay. 
I kept turning  
and the water was churning  
as I began to see  
the rainbow stripes of the sea 
come closer 
and closer. 

My eyes were on the prize 
swinging ungracefully in the air 
complaining of the surprise 
and returning my stare 
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