Tags
bittersweet, brown dun, fishing, game warden, mountain lakes, rockies, trout
It was his day off.
He works six days a week,
checking stream levels,
checking fishing licenses,
checking hunting licenses,
taking care of injured animals,
and every once in a while,
answering a nuisance call,
from Mrs. Bocksteader,
to trap that porcupine,
that keeps on moving in,
under her front porch.
It was his day off,
but he remembered,
what he had observed,
while he was checking,
the stream levels,
at Bittersweet Creek.
There,
right there,
in the middle,
of the large pool,
at the bottom of,
the big wide falls,
where Isaac Brown’s,
saw mill once cut lumber.
It was there that he saw it,
and he had to – just had to,
visit his favorite headwaters,
on this day – his only day off.
He presented the brown dun,
to the old trout,
perfectly.
And he fooled old Mr. Trout,
for a moment,
and then,
old Mr. Trout,
threw the brown dun,
back to him.
So the field warden,
knew where he would
spend his next day off.
© Copy written for what I will never know.
waldotomosky 