A Prize

                 I.

Upon the peaceful mirrored sky

I cast the artificial fly;

It struck the lazy, limpid stream

     And for an instant lay;

Then moving ‘neath the watery gleam

     I spied its colors gay;

And then with fixed, expectant eyes,

I waited for the trout to rise.

                 II.

A swish, a swirl, a golden gleam,

A splash upon the peaceful stream,

A gaping mouth, a maddened flight,

     A singing line and reel;

And then a gallant, stubborn fight,

     A captive, pinned by steel.

And then with joy expressing eyes,

I paddled shoreward with my prize.

Jan. 6, ‘99

Pub. N.E. Sportsman for April, ‘99