The Trout

If we part,

this fine line settles back into us and we never forget,

it is like a slow, fine, thread-like shudder

passing through,

the steady verge glint

where things join,

where they part.

THE TROUT

The trout

is rising now

flooding up

in a steam

pushing

like a bolt

Its head

catches and breaks

through the water

For as long

as it pleases

it hangs

in the air