With adams, caddis, tricos, light cahills,
blue-wing olives, royal coachmen, chartreuse trudes,
green drakes, blue duns, black gnats, Nancy quills,
Joe’s hoppers, yellow humpies, purple chutes,
prince nymphs, pheasant tails, Eileen’s hare’s ears,
telicos, flashbacks, Jennifer’s muddlers,
Frank bugs, sow bugs, zug bugs, autumn splendors,
woolly worms, black buggers, Kay’s gold zuddlers,
clippers, tippet, floatant, spools of leader,
tin shot, lead shot, hemostats, needle nose,
rod, reel, vest, net, boots, cap, shades and waders,
gortex shell and one bent Macanudo —
I wade in a swirl of May-colored water,
cast a fine gray quill, the last tie of my father.
Michael Sowder has published three collections of poems, “A Calendar of Crows,” “An Empty Boat” and “House Under the Moon.” Raised in Alabama, he is now a professor emeritus at Utah State University.
This poem appears in the May 2025 issue of Deseret Magazine. Learn more about how to subscribe.