Fishing At Jericho

Georgia Wallace


The first day of August blows a whisper

of cirrus across the glass of the lake.

Your lure ripples the mirror and clouds

roll out in concentric circles

into the wake of a pair of Canada

geese.   Down the lake two teenage

boys hoist a rowboat onto the flat

plane of water.  They push out easily,

strong arms rowing toward an up

shore cove.  The tip of your pole

seduces a pair of blue-tail flies

tired from their free-flight mating.

When your line sings with catch,

they flit for the reeds.  The boys

paddle gently into the cove,

not quite out of sight, and shimmy

out of shirts, shoes. The geese make

land and rest now under the maple’s shade.

The goose, long neck tucked

under her wing, sleeps

while the gander keeps watch.

It’s time to leave, you say,

freeing the last bass of the day.  

We gather our gear

slowly – like the clouds content

with where we are, where we’re going –

the hint of later in your eyes.

In the cove the boys laugh softly,

bait their hooks, drink beer,

fish their way to manhood.



Georgia Wallace is a past president of the Kentucky State Poetry Society and a member and editor/publisher of the quarterly newsletter for Green River Writers, Inc., a non-profit organization in Kentucky.  She has led poetry workshops and readings in local and regional community settings.  Her chapbook, My Father's Daughter, was published in 1996 by Grex Press. She currently lives in Middletown, Kentucky with her husband, two cats and their 150 lb. dog, Chance.