by Will Burns

In the morning I felt
cold and rolled over
onto one side. Thought
about the size of the trout
that I had seen
rising in the river
after dinner, when I was
down there walking.

Right then I had wanted to
catch one and kill it.
I had forgotten about the
roof, and about your aunt,
and all our problems.
There
was just life and death
and a fire in my mind.