Nymphs Gone Wild

Nymphs Gone Wild

Pogge, Drew
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Anglers know, of all bug hatches hatched,
There is one, in particular, that cannot be matched

Sometime in June, once the sun warms the eddies,
The Madison fills with wild, colorful Betties

No two alike, these nymphs flitter and flutter,
All soon sun-glowing like freshly churned butter

They swarm and they dance on the slow river swirls,
Round, black-rubber larvae topped by blonde curls

Lazily spinning above smooth polished stones,
Each holds on tightly to an unlikely throne

Caddis nymphs, campus nymphs, may and barflies,
All chased downriver by young bucks on the rise

Sweaty wings beat the water amid shouts and cheers,
A chorus of laughter and "Pass me a beer!"

But the hatch only lasts from first light until dusk,
When the swarm heads back home in their cars and their trucks

The river sighs in relief, and the fish start to bite,
On a real summer hatch, one that starts… tonight

Fear not if you missed it, this crazy river-borne fray,
The Bikini Hatch starts like clockwork, on the next sunny day.

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