Issue 2:
Myth
Linda Malnack
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Montana Myth Number 6: The Fall
Tackled and creeled on the Kootenai,
we wait for red-sided shiners to rise
and tug. We angle here, Adam and I -
our lines dangled under red-osier
dogwood - but mountain whitefish
strike true flies, not our bait.
The soft o’s of their mouths beg for
caddisflies, mayflies, while we cast
over water words meant only for us.
Longnose dace, escapees from Loon
Lake, whirr and shimmer. Whistling
swans nibble forbs under serviceberry.
We nest along the river like swifts;
we fish, till one day the pole dips, reel
spinning, and we catch each other
mouth to mouth, thigh to thigh, ribs
meshed. Shiners pull us in: and down
the river we drift, over the falls we fall.
~Linda Malnack
Linda's poems have appeared in many publications. Her chapbook Bone Beads, was published by Paper Boat Press in 1997. Email.
© 1999 by Linda Malnack. All Rights Reserved.
© 2000-2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated April 23, 2002.