Sunday, January 24, 2016

this morning

This Morning

the snow encrusted earth rests silently this morning,
only the tick of the clock and the rush of air from the humidifier,
awaiting the rising sun, I am alone in my thoughts.

What temperatures will the creeping golden glow bring?
warmth for black Stoneflies at noon?
midges to small to tie bouncing along?
a snow covered drive that I should shovel and salt while its melting.

"too much to do", I hear my wife in my mind,
but she is off to work, only my sons here to discuss the should and shouldn't,
hmmmmm, can I squeeze it in before afternoon hockey?
I know better, A marathon fisher I am,

slow down and sip hot coffee,
build a fire in the woodstove and count to ten,
lower my heart rate, this will not be the day
copyright Nathan McLeod 2016