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Fishing
On the warm July river
Heading back
on a lazy sunny day
Going fishing
Near the banks
Of the Abary Creek
Drifting on sheer glass
For my throw
The motor purrs
Toward the creek-horn
A gator watches
Waddling in the mud
Looking heedless
My line tugs
Line taut
Rod snaps
Let her run
But no escape today
The Abary waters
Continue rolling
To the estuary
To the Atlantic
To mix with
The giant Amazon
Once Raleigh?s dreams
A tiger bird
Noisily flaps
Awake me
As I pass
Mr. Alligator
Snoring
Me too
Out of here
Would soon
One of us
Doesn't belong
Maybe its me
~Norman N Datt~
