A fisherman readies his hook,

preparing to hoist trout up

into his bucket.

He pulls and pulls

among an ever so resistant fish,

He practically has it at his fingertips—

he can basically taste it,

it’s already in his oven,

on his plate seasoned and

dished just for his pleasing,

an ever so scrumptious fis—

plop

and the fish is back

into the ocean of its own kind