familiar
comfortable in my palm
my fingers wrap natural cork
index raised
gauging line tension
precision brings the willow’d shaft
high above my shoulder
rod flexing expectantly
a flick of my wrist
and the line arcs forward
increasing the pressure
on my fingertip
as it rolls ahead
accelerating
then
a careful pluck
like a string
on a guitar
it is released
the golden lure
at line’s end
sails silently
into the squinting summer sun
with a subtle plick
the barbed hunter disappears
slipping ‘neath the sparkle
of the undulating steam
seductively
with quickening pulse
eagerly visualizing
I retrieve the bait
craving the strike
patience draws the lure
dancing ever nearer
I long for the sharp
powerful tug
for the slender thread
unreeled before me
to rise
and dart away
in a sliver of silver spray
for my heart to jump
as a proud trout
breaks water
victim to my seduction
in this moment
mind focused
breath steady
senses heightened
awaiting sudden contact
I reflect
there is a simple truth in fishing
as in life
the sweet anticipation
can be as rich
as the reward
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2018
More toad’s childhood memories
Rob, it is so good to read you! I can feel the love of fishing passed down , father to son to grandson. A gift that lasts lifelong.
Hi Sherry! It’s so great to see your name in my comments section again. Been a while. I was sidelined for a few years with challenging health issues, but a Pacemaker implant last year got me back on my feet, so I started writing again, and this summer started posting again. It feels great! Thank you for your very kind words. I still link to that interview you did with me in 2011 for Poets United. Enjoyed that one! Well, see you round the toad patch and the pub. 🙂
I don’t know very much about fishing, but I like the way you built up the poem, image by image, to give the reader the same mounting expectation the young fisherman has. I nodded in recognition by the time I got to the conclusion.
Glad you enjoyed it Rommy! Fishing is a great joy we have shared now through 4 generations of Kistners, the men and the women. Not only is the “sweet anticipation” very exciting, awaiting a fish to strike, but it gives us a time to talk and deepen the cross generational bonds. The quiet beauty of nature around you, the water gently lapping on the sides of the boat, the continued easy motion of casting and retrieving – it is very zen… interrupted occasionally by the explosive joy of “fish on!” 🙂
This is wonderful! I love the build up to the conclusion. My father used to take me fishing at the Eno river – a cane pole with a cork for me as I got bored easily and would wander off. But he and my mother loved fishing together. They didn’t do fly fishing as it was not popular in our area but instead rod and reel type fishing. LOL, I felt sorry for the one fish I caught and when we got home, I buried it and refused to eat fish from that day forward. I love the respect you put into your fishing and the way the craft was passed down to you. a delightful memory.
Our experience with fishing is as much about the sharing and bonding as it is about the fishing. It’s wonderful to now have 3 generations together! Most of our fishing is done with spinning reels, and we practice catch and release – though we occadionslly bring s nice trout home for grilling. I am glad you enjoyed this Toni. 🙂
A skill this precise would take a lot of work and dedication, just the kind of time needed to build and cultivate strong bonds. I see why the activity is so important to those who came before you, to you, and to the ones who follow after you…
The closing stanzas, with their commentary on truth, are true themselves–everything we work for offers us the chance to see/feel the work as a reward, if we just enjoy it, and find people to enjoy with.
Our family truly enjoys our times together fishing Magaly. Very centering snd deeply bonding. Anything done which involves sharing, especially with family, is rewarding and a magical time…
🙂
This isn’t just a poem about fishing, Rob, but a love poem to male companionship. I love the way it starts with the words ‘familiar’ and ‘comfortable’, the fine detail of the process of fishing, the joy when the writs flicks and the ‘line arcs forward’, and the ‘careful pluck like a string on a guitar’ – an apt simile. My favourite part is the beautiful description of the golden lure sailing ‘into the squinting summer sun’ – delicious sibiliance to create the sound!
It is most definitely exactly that Kim. This is how the Kistner men have bonded for four generations. Men, in boats, on the water, under the sun, emmersed in nature, practicing the rhythmic zen of casting – all the talking and sharing themselves, strengthening the interwoven relationships, with knowledge and tales moving up and down through the generations. It’s male love at it’s purest… and I understand how fortunate my immediate patriarchal lineage is…
Nice, nice! Love the comparison to a guitar string. I grew up with people fishing all around me but didn’t quite take to it. Still I recognize this memory. It’s wonderful.
Glad this resonated for you Marian. I loved the social aspects of fishing as much as the sport. Plus, I loved the zen-like essence of the sound of the water, the peaceful beauty of the surroundings, the quiet metronomic motions of casting and retrieving. It calmed the savage beast in me…
The very few time I’ve gone fishing I realized it had to be something about waiting that was enjoyable, I never got hooked though :-)… and then my father didn’t fish either.
It was never a “waiting” thing for me Bjorn, it was a “being” thing. Being with people I cared about, being immersed in the zen-like essence of the sound of the water, gentle movements of the boat, the peaceful beauty of the surroundings, the quiet hypnotic motions of casting and retrieving. It calmed me and kept me sane… at least as sane as I was able to be… 😉
Oh I can feel the passion in your poem so palpable 🙂 Fishing is indeed an enjoyable sport.
It is definitely that Sanaa. I also find a lot of calming zen-like elements in the essence of fishing, at least the way I go about it…
the sweet anticipation
can be as rich
as the reward
The beauty of fishing captured most perfectly. It is the feeling experienced at the point of success that all anglers are lured each time to whip the rod flying into the air.
Hank
It’s addictive Hank, such feeling of freedom…
the sweet anticipation
can be as rich
as the reward
The beauty of fishing captured most perfectly. It is the feeling experienced at the point of success that all anglers are lured each time to whip the rod flying into the air.
Hank
Another one ended up in spam. I will pay attention to see it
I can figure out why…
The sounds in this poem just glide off the tongue! I hope you are able to share and pass on your love for fly fishing – it is a great way to spend the day with a loved one!
Well Margaret, first blessed my son with it when he was 5, and he and I are showing his 5-year-old, my grandson, the zen art of the cast – and he loves it, more to learn, but he’s hungry to… 🙂