Are Trout of this river's song, sharp

in the current and vague on the flats?

Do trout dance for any reason but love,

fanning a harp of water for the sheer gravity of a chance encounter with death,

Clearing the surface in time to stop

a mind from shattering distraction?

Can trout know the purity of the pools they mime in the deep mirrors of their scales?

Who began this risky trip into the howl of a broken river?

The small streams mother us all back to a speck in our brains called home on a trail of token lusts.

Can a haphazard heart land smack dab in the middle of luck?  Is there any doubt?

If so, never mind, just go catch a trout.

by Greg Keeler

www.seattlegrapevine.com/user/paint_poetry/blogs

Tags: Fly Fishing Trout Fun Harmony Peace Mayflies