he sets of in the dead of night signs remind him its not right as he sits with rod in hand eyes staying sharp surveying land cloths dark so cannot be seen as he sits poaching forbidden streams no lights no sound in the dead of night shhh got to stay quit rod gets tugged from his pray the fish not stay he takes them away in his bag they will stay fish supper that day branches breaking beneath his feet as he makes his retreat look checks the coast is clear passionate poacher vanishes into thin air