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How in the unknown
River with nothing
Promised came the jolt
And quiver of the
First trout (thereafter
How readable were
The pools and riffl
es!) --
How then I kept on
Fishing past lunch time
Knowing the fatigue
This would mean; then ate
Somewhat hurriedly
At last with my boots
On a log to dry --
How I went downstream
Barefoot, astonished
By the pain! each small
Rock made its own pain --
How slowly that pain
Drove back the idea
Of a pleasant walk
Barefoot to that pool
Downstream; how I caught
Two fi ne trout while each
Move I made meant pain;
How the log had spurs
On it, like pinpoints,
Entering my bare feet
When I came back; how
In midafternoon,