Easter and Fishing

When the worm
     dangled from a hook
Sees nothing but mouth coming,
     full open wide,
And teeth poised for stabbing,
     death ahead implied,
But then just before the gnashing,
     all goes black inside.

When the fisherman
     standing on the shore
Waits for his line deep sinking,
     no hurry in mind,
With 'will the hook set' thinking,
     hope tied to blind,
Will the catch start fighting,
     or another supper to find?

When on the third day
     of his third and final try,
Pro Christie finally knew winning,
     finally broke through,
Not a single fish caught sparing,
     a Bassmaster true,
A trophy the victor's now hoisting,
     a shining so due.

by J Alan R
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