fraser river pinks
migrating along the island, teeming
upshore, downshore, at any instant
a dozen or more fish leaping into our world
in gathering darkness
i whip my rod toward the flurry
hook up on every cast, beach five
writhing feasts, hard, solid, strong
in rare requited lust
and eventually
arm aching, dark
the river of fish still surging
drag my catch up the hill
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
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photo by David Bailey
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