Nymphs Gone Wild
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.