The Fisher

Master Fisher, Master Fisher,
What catches have you –
A bass, a trout,
A catfish or two?

G’day, laddie!
Who would have guessed?
A netful of mud
And tangles of cress

This sure was odd
I wouldn’t have thought
With your toiling all night
Yet no fish was caught

Odd are but the odds:
It’s a fish’s job to hide,
A fisher’s job to find,
And the river’s to decide

I wished the fisher luck
As I turned and left the quay
But found myself instead
Lying awake at three
And how would I have known
The fisher of dreams was me?

Colin Lee


Note: Inspired by dVerse’s Poetics, here’s a little riverine scribble, of fishing and of dreams.

Photo Courtesy:

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