casting (Remove filter)
Trout
The lake is still in the evening sun
A little breeze make the longer grass sway on the bank
and a ripple disturb the surface:
A mayfly lands
A swallow drinks and is gone before I see
With a rattle, a duck takes off from behind the island
Then it is still again
Beneath the reflections are fish
Sometimes - but not yet tonight -
A circle of ripples flows out from a rise
...
Monday 15th January 2018 3:40 pm
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
16 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
17 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
20 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
21 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
21 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
21 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
22 hours ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
22 hours ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
23 hours ago