I used to fly fish a lot but haven’t been much lately as I lost a good friend of mine a couple of years ago with whom we would go for a “dabble” to see if we could catch some rainbow trout. This poem is dedicated to my fishing partner and friend Martin Westcar.
Cast the line weight forward,
To break the waters seal,
Of a silvery flash beneath,
Tension on the reel,
Outwit the beauty that lies under,
Movement beneath the lake,
Feel the line between my fingers,
Ecstasy of the take,
Net in the water,
Not to keep but return,
Catch then release,
Depths to which they yearn,
Held in great respect,
For they are like no other,
Of those I’ve known before,
A friend and a brother,
Having been called by God’s grace,
I now fish alone,
Miss the early days,
Of those I have known,
We talked about our time,
At one with nature,
But now it’s only me,
My years getting later,
For the imitation I now have,
Taken as the fly,
Damsel nymph and hare’s ear,
On to which I tie,
To transfix the trout,
With this artificial lure,
Then let it chase,
Flawless and pure,
Lamenting of the loss,
Try again to cast,
Thinking of what was,
For that memory to last.
James Findon © 2025.
