Fishing on the Barton River 1947
by Henry Burt Stevens
River bottomed farm land
ox-bowed fudge colored flow
banks caving in as
strong summer rains cut deeper curves.
Walking pussy footed
flyfishing the ripples
i now and then make catch
landing a silver steelhead.
The road a half mile away
can be heard, not loud
the gurgle from a tipped in tree
i pop a wild cucumber
The sun has dipped, the air chills
a farmer turns off his put-put engine
water drips from my line as i reel in
walking home in darkness
eating fresh picked clover blossoms.