A kid in a red hoodie stands on the bank just past the sign that says not to fish there casting into a small eddy at the edge of the falls. Out in the rapids guys in waders brace themselves stiffly all business. But the kid he’s like a fencer flinging back his left arm to counter the throw of his right. He gets one and lets it run past him downstream less fight than negotiation like he’s saying: Go to my friend with the net. He’ll scoop you up. Just for a beat or two. I want to weigh you in my hands and see the shimmer on your skin. Then I’ll let you go. The fish complies. The kid shows it around to the younger boys and the guys in kitchen pants then stepping along the broken concrete to the bank he holds it like an offering or a blade and rocks it in the water returning its sense of the river and life and the fish wakes to find the promise was good.
Kristina Faust’s latest poems appear in Boulevard, Rhino, and Washington Square Review. She recently collaborated with composer Jonathan Newman and soprano Fotina Naumenko on Bespoke Songs, a new chamber music recording project.
Photo by Jaeyoon Jeong on Unsplash
