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.