Outdoors

River, clearing as the rain subsides,
all the brown grass, of winter
are now thick with frost.

The Sun shining, warming me
through my heavy coat,
as the crisp air attacks,
fingers and toes.

Casting across the slow moving
waters, watching the lure
splash and disappear,
feeling the irregular bumps of
lead along the bottom,
waiting for that uncertain
touch of the elusive fish.

Reeling in and seeing ice
built up in the ferrules.
The sound of a cock peasant,
the drumming of wings, carrying
him to safety.

The river smells like the
ocean.
Tiring, I return to the car
and so ends the quiet alone,
of this New Year morning.