July 6. Yakutat, Alaska
It’s raining in the midnight light that never goes away.
Fresh-heavy air and the scent of grass.
On! with your boots.
Grinding gravel and a skinned thumb.
In the van we pass the bridge.
Alight to trek to plunge.
The water flows at waist-level.
The fish are dark shapes on rain-mottled surface.
Stare. Stare. Stare. It moved.
No, it didn’t.
It’s only algae.
Lift leg upriver.
The next hole lies North.