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The river wild
The light reaches around the corner the waters of the great river of where the water runs wild. As the rapids just pool over the rocks that sit underneath the clear blue water. Selway river runs wild through the parts he knows all to well where to go for his chance to see he was to focused on the river. All he had to give back was his sanity and his pride; he had his hat on his head, his wetters, and his fly fishing pole staff he stands in the foot of the river were the water goes around his waist and he stands there focus as the coolness of the air down by the river selitified his mind and kept him cool and collected. He was born a fisherman but he had a job though he was a writer for a local newspaper his take on the river was his own story he told his boss.
The river Wild he calls it but to him though it was more than just that it was a story about him and his love for fly fishing; so he took his chance this morning before work he got into his pa's juggy truck and drove out here - where the smoke of the mountains rise beneath the new day of the new sun as the water crips around the rocks and shoots down through the banks, and turns around the corners.
He stands there focused and ready to get this day over with - and so he hooks his fly to his line and he stands there flecking his wrist and dragging line out with each passing wave of his hand with a quick gestures he sprangs the line over his head he called it The ballerina of the river' it was his own design the way it was showing it was like a dance of a ballerina- he was to interturitive to say aleast but he kept it going with each sweeping with his line dancing waving over his head it was like the river wild was within him.
And he thought it's better than going to a speakeasy - his line shimmered off a reflection of the sun that was smashing the earth down with it's trees on the shore of the banks of the river with his line twinkles in the light as he slowly becomes the river wild himself and he lets the line to have some slack. People have said that he was crazy for doing this but he didn't care all he wanted was to be out in nature and where the water runs wild is his home and his love for it will grow in time.
The river Wild he calls it but to him though it was more than just that it was a story about him and his love for fly fishing; so he took his chance this morning before work he got into his pa's juggy truck and drove out here - where the smoke of the mountains rise beneath the new day of the new sun as the water crips around the rocks and shoots down through the banks, and turns around the corners.
He stands there focused and ready to get this day over with - and so he hooks his fly to his line and he stands there flecking his wrist and dragging line out with each passing wave of his hand with a quick gestures he sprangs the line over his head he called it The ballerina of the river' it was his own design the way it was showing it was like a dance of a ballerina- he was to interturitive to say aleast but he kept it going with each sweeping with his line dancing waving over his head it was like the river wild was within him.
And he thought it's better than going to a speakeasy - his line shimmered off a reflection of the sun that was smashing the earth down with it's trees on the shore of the banks of the river with his line twinkles in the light as he slowly becomes the river wild himself and he lets the line to have some slack. People have said that he was crazy for doing this but he didn't care all he wanted was to be out in nature and where the water runs wild is his home and his love for it will grow in time.
