Delayed Harvest
for Jim McKean
Before we struggled to hold light
along this line of the Jacob Fork,
we tied on the nearly invisible
tippet to nymph pools, glimpse
broken halos. Rainbows held low
in their lanes. Sometimes they rose
to brighten the surface, our breath
tightening on the take. The rest
of the morning, we worked a section
below the bridge, wanting only
to return shadows into the river.