Nighttime Catch
Only one bright star that I can see,
a bashful moon peeks down on me.
With a rod in hand, I launch a cast,
I’m sure it will not be my last.
I attach the bell atop my pole,
and find a seat right near the hole.
I look above and make a wish,
that I can catch a trophy fish.
The sound of splashing here and there,
but not a nibble, it seems unfair.
But I have faith, I will not quit,
I stay patient to hear that hit.
The hours pass slowly by,
still no bite, I wonder why.
Deep in thought with everything,
till I’m shaken awake with a ring.
I jump up and jerk my pole,
it’s the big one I won’t let go.
But what I reeled in made me sick—
for my trophy fish was just a stick.
— David Ritter
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