First, be sure of the footing. After dark
dew slickens the flat stones, and the long-
handled net performs only half a balance
bar's chore. Where the river runs swift
the slim rod lies across the fulcrum
of the hips, using the energy of sex against
the water's push. If the sport is conquest
a game of brain over fin, it will take a bucket
filled to equal a trophy. If the sport is supper
and soup is soup whether herring or shad
each dip fills as much stomach as a ladle.
Either way, the narrows glint silver and blue
like a collection of antique letter openers.
Each fish slices through its windowed envelope
and is cashed as quickly as an unexpected check.
© R. Jeffrey Roberts