Haiku for Anglers

O Lord, allow me
At least a few fish this day.
My buddy, one less

I lurch far forward
From the sharp bend of my pole
Another stump, hooked

The fish eagle dives
Snatching unsuspecting bass
“Please, leave some for me”

The sun’s rays cause sweat
Beads to drop from brow to reel--
And me, out of beer

A box in a shed:
Within, a tangled treasure
Of forgotten lures


The best laid plans of
Mice and Men shrink in the midst
Of the picky trout

The old fishing hole
Memories of hooked whoppers,
Whatever their size

How many great lures,
From impatient casts, still swing
From the tall flora?

Feed a man a fish,
It’s one meal. Teach him to fish
He’ll mooch your tackle.

Proverb for the skunked:
Blessed are the poor of catch
For they lie the best

Published in ROSEBUD (copyrighted)