Michael Loderstedt
Night Fishing the Inlet
I.
Beneath fall’s moonlight you backed
the buggy up to a shimmering ocean, a rushing
inlet to your right, the slough ahead
cut away by circling eddies.
Under lantern light
the gear laid out–– hooks the size
of crooked fingers, rods stout
as broomsticks, coffee can-sized
reels loaded with 50# test.
These no ordinary fish, these bull
Red Drum.
Chunks of mullet cut the size
of a boy’s fist, meat-hooked
onto rigs. You wade up to your armpits
before each cast, rod settling
into holder. Cracking a Pabst,
you take a seat and wait.
II.
When the reel screeches
you know this fish will be
special, this no ordinary night.
A big fish knows how
to lose the hook, his last
memory still a throbbing
toothache never healed.
He heads for deep water,
a nearby hole, a channel
to saw your line against
broken shells.
You follow him, bent
over the sea, hoping
you can turn him.
But he is too strong.
He takes you ‘round
the spit, your wife follows
beside, pumping the gas
lantern, hoping you’ll
get a glimpse of red.
III.
You think of the barmaid
that took you back to
room #4, the kids
still in the car. You
think of her ankles,
stout as holly branches.
You think the tide may
come over the buggy wheels.
The gap between sea and dune
will close. This fish may never
tire, you think under
the lantern’s light.
IV.
That’s when she says
you never cared for me.
You see tears shine across
her face. You pretend not
to hear, hoping the fish
might drag you too into
the black water. Take you
to his hole, away from all
your living secrets.
When the hook gives way,
straightened like a paper clip,
you turn to her and walk
the mile back in silence. There
are no words, there is
no fish. There is only
this dark night, the moon
and the lantern,
each wanting to be
the better light.
Michael Loderstedt’s first book of poems Why We Fished published by Redhawk Publications in 2023 received a silver award from the UK Poetry Book Awards. Recent writings have been featured in Naugatuck River Review, Muleskinner Journal, the NC Literary Review, Bangalore Review, Poem for Cleveland & Musepaper. He was awarded a 2020 Ohio Arts Council Fellowship in Literature, and currently lives in Cleveland, Ohio near the shore of Lake Erie with his wife Lori and son Ethan.