Angler

Riveted to the grass in frozen alertness Limbs ache from hours of wait It may be a day of their not being impressed Fooled not once by tempting bait! It's high time the liner shook The trap lured the willing catch There's a pull at end of hook Rewarded is all the hard watch! In darned breeze the heart grieves The quietude isn't getting to grow The noise from the rustling leaves Incessant caws of the lone crow! Are the eyes too weary from watch Hands are not fully motionless Or the clever prey feels not worth touch And rather survive in hunger's distress! Eyelids feel heavy and this's such prose To be awake amid the wind's lullaby Till the day closes with picking morose The empty bucket in melancholy!