SUMMER SIGHTS: TWO POEMS
A Tug on His Line
Its tug on his string said it all. Weak.
Floating with the lilies is not its idea
of being a fish, but it’s a good catch.
As faith would have it, she is loyal to the scorcher.
She moves her face for her hoard of warm caress,
Until he singes all that is tinder dry in the woods
Where she would find herself the first to perish by fire.
—Albert B. Casuga