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The rainbow trout is the most magnificent in Creation, I think. I’ve been unable to find creative words in the last few weeks, have struggled to find time to read poetry, much less write a couplet. He leaps skyward, surprised by the stinging punch packed by my artificial sow bug. Be inspired; learn how to become a better writer: Browse more Artist Dates.He is a slender fish, long and lean with a feminine fancy for pink. ______________________ At Tweetspeak Poetry, we are committed to helping people become who they really are.To him all good things—trout as well as eternal salvation—come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy.” ― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories On the slick underside of cool river rocks, the sow bugs hide.I turn stones over, watch one scurry for cover under the stone next door, watch its brother try to burrow deep into the mud.The sow bug, known more commonly as the “roly poly, ” is there, exposed.He has rolled into a ball, his best attempt at hide-and-seek, his attempt to look for all the world like a perfectly round pebble.
Any attempt to hook a trout on a dry fly would be futile. Today, though, this is less about prayer and more about emptying myself of daily cares.
He is my offering to the keepers of this stretch of river, and before I can count to two, I see the metallic flash of trout against the morning sun. I continue the exercise, and in an instant, I catch the flash of trout against sun.