Ephemera
Anthony Naples
Midge breathing and perspiring
While rosy-sided trout prance in the guise of a sunset
I'm forced to think of eventualities and of ephemera
I used to be able to see these things – now I just try and try until the hook is threaded
Holding my hands to the dying light for a last glimpse – for one more fly change
The passage of time is measured in casts
Maybe I can get a cast under that overhanging branch
It hangs there – an old woman on a balcony, putting out her laundry to dry
Is there a husband inside waiting for his dinner? Children that have grown and moved on?
Or is it just a broken branch on a broken tree with no story at all – with no secrets and no meanings
If I can just tighten that loop a little...maybe I'll be more than the sum of my regrets