I like the simplicity of this opening statement; it sets up the poem to make the reader believe something special is going to occur. Rachel McGuinness, age 18
You can tell by the window.
You can see Flatfish,
Bass-Oreno, Lazy Ike,
old bobbers, old spoons, old net.
Somewhere in the back,
the old man. For now,
Move slow. Try to recall
how good your line was
last time out, any weak spots
any place where the reel
grabbed and dragged, anything.
There, there he is, between the tanks
of chubs and shiners, and cold beer
This makes me imagine the man as a stealthy creature, elusive like the fish true fishermen pray to catch. Rachel McGuinness, age 18
a long reach down in the moving water.
Ask for worms. He'll know you then,
he'll rise huge and slow to you,
opening and closing his mouth
as if to speak.
This is a perfect description of the way a fish’s mouth moves. Olivia Ezinga, age 15