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.