"To Fish Dale"

Passing autumn memories are
Fields of goldenrod and blue aster
Winter, a new season, to be painted by the Master
Sunsets in lavender and scarlet
Mystifying like the eyes of a harlot
Snow-capped herons sit in frustration
The victims of a late migration
On the hillside, deer rustle the leaves
Unseen in silence they vanish like thieves
Across the water, the call of the loon carries far
Like on crisp, clear nights so does light of the north star
Some would like to seek comfort of a wood fire
Drink good Kentucky bourbon and retire
But there are some who keep warm and dry
To fish Dale with Foat-n-Fly

Bonefish