Scooting skippers
cast skipping scooter patterns
on sandy river bottoms,
while fragile fry
twirl in swirling eddies
beneath the dank dirt river banks.
Fish mate and spawn,
from dusk till dawn,
await the great debate
and wonder why...

Men create fine filiments of line,
fine feathered falsehoods,
prepare for telling lies
by tying pretty flies
to use as tools
for playing games of catch-me-not
in midnight pools.

Time honors skills
and rules are made,
men lure, while fish insure
exactly who will be the fools.
Fish and friend or fish and foe
both know the same...
it's not who wins the game,
it's how the game is played