Harvest moon rise,
color in the trees quake.
The creek's hidden leopard strikes.
Camouflaged golden,
fallen leaves conceal, speckled salmonid.
Baetis spinner dance.
Through canyons
into valley
My guide, a hawk,
beckons me onward.
Skinny water,
fishy water,
where brown trout lie
waiting for opportunity,
like me, stealthily stalk.
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