Friday, March 29, 2019



The first surprise--
on the logjam that crosses the river,
a mink.

Not a muskrat.
A mink.
In Ohio.

The best surprise--
turned to look upstream, checking the footing for my next step,
my eyes off the line and
a tug
a yank
a fight
a trout.

Not a bass.
A rainbow trout.
In Ohio.

The last surprise--
I've forgotten
the achingly numb feet
from a day spent standing in
fast flowing
forty degree water with a
fly rod.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2019


  1. Oh. My! I love this poem and these moments and the way you wove these surprises together -- three separate, but related.

    And a nice rainbow. Released, or eaten?

    A guy wonders: A bit of worm? A nymph? A minnow? A scud? Riffle bottom? Bank cut? Hole? :)

    1. :-)
      Nymphs weren't working so I tied on a minnow just for fun. Riffle bottom, in a channel. Total luck. I really was turned away from my line looking upstream. It was an accident, but hey, I'll take it!

    2. What fun! Good for the soul to be outside near a stream. I need to get back out now that the streams are running clearer.