He Was His Own Leftover,

The Deeps Are Cold: In That Darkness Camaraderie Does Not Hold: Nothing Touches But, Clutching, Devours.

Fishing Provides That Connection With The Whole Living World. It Gives You The Opportunity Of Being Totally Immersed, Turning Back Into Yourself In A Good Way. A Form Of Meditation, Some Form Of Communion With Levels Of Yourself That Are Deeper Than The Ordinary Self.

And As If Reporting Some Felony To The Police They Let You Know You Were Not John Donne.

I Shall Also Take You Forth And Carve Our Names Together In A Yew Tree, Haloed With Stars.

The Brassy Wood-pigeons Bubble Their Colourful Voices, And The Sun Rises Upon A World Well-tried And Old.