A Pot of Golden Eggs Laid at the End of a Rainbow.

A Pot Of Golden Eggs Laid At The End Of A Rainbow.

I was in a bit 
of a day dreamy mode,
after four hours 
in the April sun,
on the bend of river 
thick with steel-head 
and rainbow trout.

You could see them there
in the depths of the clear stream,
but most were just stealing the head
of my bait from the hook,
and the rainbow sheen of other backs
held a promise of never again
flooding my catch bucket.

I picked up a rod, and
and reeled it in quick,
to check the bait,
when suddenly it jerked
in a manner much like 
Godzilla having a hissy fit

Then it bent harshly 
into a Mickey D sign
with only one arch,
and I was but one step away 
from being pulled towards
a fish lipped drenching 
in the drink.

What looked like a mediocre 
rainbow trout under water,
took me on a run up the river
much like the Queen's maidens
chased the woven basket 
of the precious baby Moses.
I had at long last reached 
the promised land that most 
fishermen only dream of 

20 long, muscle straining 
minutes later I reeled it in
close enough to shore 
to net and lift it,
where I discovered with
much delight its net worth.

After gently removing a 
very stubborn hook 
from its top fin,
I hoisted it out

fingers gently embedded

under its gills,
to find 24 inches of a fat
and still struggling
steekhead trout extravaganza!

My jealous buddy 
took several pictures,
but then it began 
squirting eggs all over my boots,
so I placed it back in the river,
and set it free.

It was a Mother you see,
trying desperately to 
lay her eggs
before she died,
and she held a whole lot more
fish for me to catch later on.

She swam away, 
blowing me fish kisses,
as I re-baited my hooks 
to no avail for two more hours.

But I went home with a smile
stretched 24 inches across my face,
as well as a fish story to tell,
and some digital photos to back it up.

Not exactly an 
Earnest Hemingway tale
but it was a bright rainbow splash
that helped freshly dampen my rather 
dry as of late memories.