Hook, line and sink her!
A river thundering through the sculpted banks heavy with fronds that dig deep into the abyss;
Feet slipping on the shifting mud that slopes towards the foaming carpet.
Men swearing underbreath and wildly exaggerating, gesticulating,
the frissant of winning the glory of all gathered.
A pull, a jerk, a bite……
A float bobbing in the glistening water.
Grasping his rod in anticipation…
heart racing…….desperate to strike...
His head pounds with the prospect of unfettered accomplishment
as his arms tense and his grip strengthens…
Thrashing, thrashing…fighting for breath….. for life
Surrging forward, then back, then forward again...
Foothold sliding away towards the undulating rush of muddy liquid,
then ugly lips appearing through the water, sneering, fleshy, moist;
A quick determined yank ...and it’s out!
The sweat on his temples belies his joy as he falls on his ass,
but glory hangs on the end of his rod, a twitching, defeated , wide mouthed Bass!
Lodigiana
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Comments
Hi Cherie, I am so pleased it brought back some memories...I hope they were good ones.I never fished myself but often sat on a riverbank with my father and uncle who both loved fishing and were so competitive that it was almost a life and death hobby!!!!memories of sunny days and shrivelled sandwiches.Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it xxx