By John Darling
The results of greater than thirty years event, Bass Fishing on Shore and Sea is a accomplished advisor to catching this gorgeous but difficult gamefish. issues lined contain: the place to seem for bass and the way to fish for them; take on and methods for shore fishing; What baits to exploit and the way to procure them; The apparatus and methods for boat fishing, either inshore and additional out; Fishing with lures. Illustrated all through with exceptional images, this ebook is vital analyzing for all sea anglers.
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Extra resources for Bass Fishing on Shore and Sea
Sipping tea whispering inside yourself a constant storm of who and who or who and me waiting for some red pillow life to discover you refusing anybody's claim but wanting a stranger to pull you into car lights dark streets snow I went out to find wood I could feel how dark it was and wanted to make a fire for us My lover had come a great distance bringing violets and a Japanese comforter silky with falcons, beige-feathered and gliding above a blue sea He wanted to comfort me When he's here, I believe it's enough David keeps trying to feel the insides of things to open the morning's wrappings before it's time Tomorrow he's ten he can't keep his hands off Page 30 Locations For Bill Evans, jazz pianist Light forgetting itself light falling loosely deep into May Trying to listen to all that presses up from under each side of the seam Holes where something gives in to a pulse careful stitches unraveling cross-hatch of insulated wires black slow curves among the poles street slopes here in shadow where houses lean on each other but light still catching white oil tank distinct against blue haze above bay water Pollution soothes us in early evening we breathe in and forget coffee no longer hot wind coming up flapping the shades Red metal pot the color of poppies His love the spot on the white tablecloth after dinner To give up finally to stop holding the infant idea how deep you've been told to hurt, to dissemble the structure of wounds which choose to resemble one another Page 31 Someday, because he was an exquisite set of gestures, you thought you would escape the yearning to be surprised infinitely A home inside yourself Your body held unto itself There were ways of talking He plays his piano in big cities and now you are alone with him in the full amplification of ambiguous chords which he trusts silence to justify What is waiting for you to fall into big saxophone body pulling from another side of the seam of music no longer automatically dropping An effort to leave the window justifies the question of which is more important: to witness last light of mauve sponge sky or, an inclination towards sound drifting through the cities where you listen to what he isn't telling you, clearly ambiguous and totally intimate Page 32 How she notices is a formal fact clearly evident as a chip of paint knocked off perfect white flow where someone's brush tried to see a wall Amplification attempts to make it all all right and in times of sorrow a voice turned up loud can be a true resonance Still, some sound was too pretty an easy beat where you could get stuck, not finding out Two trout bought for supper, to please his mouth, now softening under their scales She'd know if their eyes were dead Lights just went out The scales were silver and excited her in a room she didn't talk about Summer, such a little place full of fish in rivers leaping The apples out, red with yellow streaking their sides, not so glamorous as stores promised but pulling low on branches next to the road All in heaviness to be crushed into softness Her sweet throat Cider drinks gravel you hear first from the driveway before the shadow appears and then the visual body of the guest Page 33 These acts of attention to fill in all the gaps where his body keeps going away Page 34 Now That the Subjunctive is Dying for A.
A line from Kunitz surfaces from the year I was twenty-one. '' That is all my memory provides of it. But to understand truly, you'd need the lines before it, building up to that crescendo that thrilled me. . a movement in front of one. As a season. In a second. The forward movement of slow motion. Even then, the field. Of many flowers moving at their own speeds. Not one then two then three. But moving. Split. Second. Rushing into petals. That was a peculiar passion I do not often encounter in the poetry of the late '70s, but do not want to deny.
She is just fine," he said. "My Lily is back. I have my family back. I can take the sitter home now. Would you like me to do that? The tires are bad, so I go up hills slowly. " Who is Lily? I think. I try to remember which one Lily is. Lily must be one third of his nuclear family. The other third is his Aunt Cora, sitting in an airplane above Los Angeles, thin trail of white smoke drifting always above and behind him. One can almost hear the gossamer command of her voice in his childhood, filtered like light falling perpetually upon him.