Sunday, January 23, 2005


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.

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