Casting for the Easter Fish

I am instinctively
Addicted to fishing,
Innately I confess. 

With amigoed muskateers
Pescatelled in thoughtless
Waders deeply riffled 

I fish with otters
Snaking their fur
Tails. Sigmoid herons, one-legging. 

Cold, stone-thatched banks
Shed their winter leaves—
Wind scuttling them to water. 

Swirling jetsam,
Swirling flotsam. My lined
Mind cast adeep.