Islands.
I.
The hooks were all set
in the mouths of the fish
deep below the surface.
About eight of them sat
poised, ready for reeling,
as I stood proclaiming
amongst scattered trees.
II.
And for some reason I cried before her,
passers by, glancing at the silent couple
as the brackish Thames emptied once more,
revealing the ratty roots of its dotted islands.