View From My Window
On Fishing
The anger is gone;
It has gone across the water.
There is a bird flying over
The water, he is searching for a fish;
In the magazines they call it a long-necked crane.
There is a fisherman out on the
Water searching for fish, he is just like the
Crane and hungers for the fish-he hungers
For salmon every day and every
Night, they haunt his dreams.
The fisherman does not catch
Any fish, today but the bird flies low across
The water, carrying a salmon in
Its beak
As the sun moves low over the water
And night closes in.
It has gone across the water.
There is a bird flying over
The water, he is searching for a fish;
In the magazines they call it a long-necked crane.
There is a fisherman out on the
Water searching for fish, he is just like the
Crane and hungers for the fish-he hungers
For salmon every day and every
Night, they haunt his dreams.
The fisherman does not catch
Any fish, today but the bird flies low across
The water, carrying a salmon in
Its beak
As the sun moves low over the water
And night closes in.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
On Fishing
On Fishing
