The Fisherman’s Dog

by Paul Ilechko

 

There are two ways to traverse the landscape,

two ways to travel the length of the gorge. The high

trail is the way of splendor, taking you up and over

 

the great fissure, crossing via the old railway bridge

that soars above the terrain, providing an endless

parade of dazzling perspectives. But the low trail, that

 

is something else completely. The low trail takes you

down into the pulsing heart of nature, takes you along

the winding riverbank, immersed in all the landscape

 

has to offer. Surrounded by the silver of birch bark,

the reds and yellows of autumn leaves, you saturate

yourself in all that is wild, in the pure silence of this

 

mythic ecosystem. And there, in the river, you come

upon a fisherman, standing stock still like a hunting

bird, one leg bent, the fulcrum that balances his

 

effortless stance as he casts, and casts again, the

brilliant color of his hand-tied lure that flashes briefly

before sinking. His dog beside him, quietly alert.

 


Paul Ilechko was born in England but has lived much of his life in the USA. He         currently lives in Lambertville, NJ with his girlfriend and a cat. Paul has had poetry     published recently by Dash Literary Journal, Gravel Magazine, Gloom Cupboard,     MockingHeart Review and Corvus Review, among others.

 

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