from p.4 on 8/22

• The sun slowly suns and shines its long
  colors of orange, yellow, and pink over
  the water. The water remains silent while the
  ripples from a fly landing on the
  water flow in every direction. The line
  whips smoothly through the air while
  the chorus of birds and insects make their
  nightly symphony.
  
  A jerk of the line.
  The fight is on. Crash!
  The fish jumps--lands on the water.
  Wind whips trees & reeds, birds
  take flight.
  The silent water is ruptured.
  Raindrops fall while fishing line strains.
  
  
  
• As the water hits the edge of the
  cliff, gravity takes over. As the water
  gracefully falls to the brutal rocks
  destroying any source of innocence.
  
  Quick.
  Graceful.
  Soothing.
  Tranquil.
  
  
  
  
• Deep burgundy, almost
  black droops down a long
  elegant decaying stem.
  Wan and stiff but with a certain
  rhythm to make it fall
  together seamlessly. Still
  captivating and lovely even in death.
  
  Dry, cracked, brittle.
  Still standing. Still tall & proud.
  Petals held stiff by the hands of time.
  Longed to be admired.
  Afraid to be touched and held
  The deep red petals flake
  away.
  The beauty remains.