From my cabin porch
I see him
standing at dock’s end
rod in hand
like an extended appendage
carved-out dawn above
the unruffled water.
He’ll be there all morning
casting and re-casting
conversing with silence.
How is it that
in hiddenness
he sees a flash
of silvery scales
sees iridescence
a mouth wide and ready?
Poised above
the jewel-like scattering
of sun on water,
he waits
sometimes hours
for the next fish
to ghost up
from the depths.
He sees water
the way a fish views it –
egoless, forgetting
worldly desires
excesses, and discarding
regrets.
I admire his cell
-like humility
his gratitude for
what is given
from the water --
its miraculous things.
Published in Cascade Rising Review