Gospel Fish

by Garry Breland

He worked so hard to select his rod
Then the line of proper weight and taper
Knotted to backing and wound onto the reel
To be finished with leader and tippet
For the finest presentation.
With greatest care to entomology
He matched the hatch with hand-tied
Caddis, coachman, stonefly, or midge.
And his cast was elegant of loop and lay
The fly resting light as a feather
Upon the surface film, and then
The retrieve—masterful to entice—
While we watched without a rise.
Rank on rank and row on row,
Pew by pew our upturned faces
Fooled the fisherman, for we were there
Not to feed but to see the show.
An hour a week we masquerade as trout,
But really we are just suckers.

Garry Breland lives in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where he recently retired (mostly) from a 38-year career in higher education. Now he has more time for writing and freelance editing. His wife is an English professor and also his best friend and muse for much of his poetry.