On The Pond At Twilight

I found you amoung noise
and woodchips.
I followed you through
trails and forests.

I joined you
on a pond at twilight
where the swish and swirl
of casting into something barely seen
took me
way beyond fishing
to a place where there was nothing
left to catch
but the sound
swallows make as they swoop
for what we cannot see.

I have learned to be like the swallows,
leaned to swoop
inside you when you were quiet
and we became the sound
of the fly cast upon the water.

We have lived inside this emptiness
far too long.