Ruth Gilchrist -Poems

THE TELLING

I could take the fly you cast
take it here, in the softness if my mouth
let the hook pierce just behind the lip.
Down the line you'd feel my shudder
and your heart would quicken as we start
this game
the to and fro
the testing.

We could meet somewhere between deep pools and
river bank, we could dance water into air, conjure a rainbow
affront the silence, tear the mist, shed scales and sweat, play out this game.

But to what end
this to and fro
this you and I?
To tales we could tell...

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