Under the water’s surging foam

The trout took care in its flowing home.

Sensitive to every rock and stone

It swam in the current between the unknown

River bed and river bank,

Where coots made nests and herons drank

In summers past.


By willow roots it might rest a while,

Close to the bridge where the shadows beguile

When the heat of the sun

Through the crystal run

Sent the trout on a search for a quiet pool,

Where the water was deep and the water was cool,

In summers past.

Page last updated: 26th Feb 2018