“The birds of winter . . . why not fly south?  In the kingdom of birds everyone lives until they don’t.”

            -from Songs of Unreason by Jim Harrison





Port Aransas, Texas

JUST FISHING

The air is always heavy and wet

A quarter-mile out on pink granite boulders
As big as washing machines 

Where waves break far into the bay
And pelicans hop-fly over them
To fish the calm between
For three-seconds 
Then up over white caps to fish again 
Working hungry
For hours each day

Fishermen here have no fancy boats 

Just a rod and reel
A plastic bucket
Most bring their dogs too 
And the fishermen out on the flats
Hip deep in green water
Fishing 
Just fishing

Out here

Like the pilot in a passing freighter
The known world up ahead
In deep water
Under gray skies
Where the fishing is the best

 (published in Blue Lake Review, Apr 2018)

Hugo's
Fayetteville, Arkansas
© C.C. Brooks

“It’s sudden.  The chickadee hanging on a barb of wire half eaten by the northern shrike.  Birds kill each other like we do but to eat.”

            -from Songs of Unreason by Jim Harrison

Port Aransas, Texas
© C.C. Brooks

“We are parts.  What parts are you now?  The shit of the world has to be taken care of every day.  You have to choose your part after you take care of the shit.  I’ve chosen birds and fish, the creatures whose logic I wish to learn and live.”

            -from the poem “Brutish” by Jim Harrison




Hugo's
Fayetteville, Arkansas