Fall 2009, Volume 7

Poetry by Lorine Parks

how to catch an old trout

i
the fresh-cheeked student earnestly chatters
tells the teacher   tells him how deeply she feels this
how his lecture has shown her   as never before
how every grain in the universe matters
how each cell connects in fusion
how her essence longs for some bliss of union

he flattered rises like a cockscomb to the bait
his ego hooked
now like a great fish in the pocket of a brook
he displays himself    silver of eye   iridescent and mottled of skin
his bright scales flash

she   eager nymph afloat on the stream
fly-tied in pink checkered gingham
she is tangled in with the tackle  
he   hideously deluded
is only one heartbeat away  
from being gutted and mounted on the wall

a splash   it is done
the old finned fool is gone

ii
now look again
in the limpid corridors of the shallows
new Dollys undulate   rainbows   brookies
cutthroats   the next generations   
at first scarcely school-size fingerlings
bones supple enough to be chewed without cracking
now grown mature and sure
fine rippling professors and acolytes
they all teem   full of roe and milt
gills heaving under shoulders of satin
rose-speckled    olive-spackled
drawn by the lure of hackle and feather
ready to rise   to die for the spawning
they invite the barb and the line
they come up from the dark weeds that shine with light
     shining shining shining

 

BIO: I have taken several semesters of Poetry Workshops at LBCC. Born and educated on the East coast, I consider myself a Californian by now. I have owned and operated Stonewood Travel in Downey for over 30 years, and traveled to as many different places as I could. Still, for learning to write, nothing beats the exposure to the writing of others and the feedback of a workshop.