The old poet closes

his tackle box. Stubs out his cigar
against the gunwale. Weaves
a worm to hook. Casts one more line. 

Steve Tomasko doesn’t fish, walk in the woods, or write nearly as often as he should. When not at his day job, he does a little freelance nature observing and occasionally turns that into words. Steve and his poet wife live in southern Wisconsin, but their hearts reside near Lake Superior.