Fall 2010 / Issues / Poetry 2010 / Volume 41

Still Fishing–William Jolliff

As boys we knew the creeks so well that once a choice was made to fish, we’d almost run each other over crossing the lots to take the best spot, downstream, maybe, from some snag, in the trash around a falling willow, or in the swirl beneath the shadow of a rock. It wasn’t that … Continue reading