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Jonah Fishing

From the January 1992 Print Edition

I fish this bay all morning.High clouds cap me, a light breezetickles the water's skin.Fall's green-brown leaves shade the shore.By noon, no fish. I leanover the gunwale staring into the water.I cannot see past my own reflection,rippled by clouds & salt.I do not notice the water's spasm20 feet . . . . Continue Reading »