On the river: A coup of the mind

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It’s a delicate ruse
Planned out in wire and feather
A bit of thread
Bit by intricate bit laid well in advance
By straining eyes and fingers steadied as best I can
Though not as steady as they should be
And there’s the reason after all

And one afternoon when the sun hits the water
And rising princes break the surface
I’ll uncurl a bit of line
Send my best adrift
And wait
Thinking of what it is that brings me there
Perhaps feeling a bit of the old me returning

Thoreau said it isn’t the fish I’m after
And we all know that’s true
It’s the song of the river
Sparkle of the sun on a riffle
Silence. Solitude. Time.
Breath on crisp winter air
And a chance to forget
Or perhaps remember
I can’t tell the difference, and maybe I don’t care.
I’m not fooling anyone anyway
The trout know better. I know better
We’ll both just wait here as I think it through
Until it all becomes clear or the sun goes down
It’s a coup of the mind after all

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