by Kaydi Johnson
An angler seining at the water’s edge needs a finny tribe - at least one denizen of the deep to call it a day. No pickeral, no pike, no blenny no shad. Not a goby or loach, let alone muskellunge, smelt, hake or gar. The silver and tribeless sheen is empty water, baiting, casting and catching only one. Reflection. A face on its knees pining for prey.
Kaydi Johnson, author of Gutter-Bound, is a New York based singer/songwriter. She has an MFA in fiction from Sarah Lawrence College and writes whenever she can find a pen. Check her out on MySpace.