She's hungry and cold
As she swims
That silver fish
Been without for a while
And through the shimmering silver haze
With a promise of the sun
Dangles, the bait.

The worm is fat
The line slack
Tantalizing and beckoning;
She knows it, recognizes it
For what it is
Slack line or not
It is the bait.

He is wise, seasoned
A gamer, a voyager
Spotted her from afar
Gleaming silver in the sheet,
Glistening as she came
To take a breath
From her cold ocean of so far.

The bait was ready
The line already hooked
Caught with it, he had
Many a fish
Threw it gently and saw her hover
As she swam and probed
The fat, soft, tender worm

She knows and he knows
It is but a sport
For him, to feel alive
For her,
To do what is denied
To feel the sun
Will she bite?

 ~Glowing Embers~