The presence of someone near me, and I heard the hum
of a reel.
And the water was churned and broken, and something
was brought to land
By a twist and a flirt of a shadowy rod in a deft and
shadowy hand.

I scrambled down to the brookside and hunted all
about;
There wasn't a sign of a fisherman; there wasn't a sign of
a trout.
But I heard somebody chuckle behind the hollow oak
And I got a whiff of tobacco like Lilly used to smoke.

It's fifteen years, they tell me, since anyone fished that
brook;
And there's nothing in it but minnows that nibble the
bait off your hook.
But before the sun has risen and after the moon has set
I know that it's full of ghostly trout for Lilly's ghost to get.

I guess I'll go to the tavern and get a bottle of rye
And leave it down by the hollow oak, where Lilly's ghost went by.
I meant to go up on the hillside and try to find his grave
And put some flowers on it--but this will be better for Dave.


MARTIN: JOYCE KILMER

When I am tired of earnest men,