A Poem

This poem came out of nowhere, but I'm putting it somewhere, so I don't forget it.

I went to Screw U
But didn’t learn a thing
About any of it
Until I met the one I’d
Leave by waiting
For the locksmith
Early in the morning.
Then I figured out you
Change it all and don’t
Look back until you’ve
Gone so far
The phone book won’t help.

The pots and pans don’t even
Remember a time the meals
Were made by chopping up stuff
Throwing it all together
They took on new
Flavors and less fat.
Where there was fearless
Faltering at every turn
I turned in to a little place
Where I unlocked the secrets of
My adult education.

Kind of crotchety, isn't it? Not the kind of poem that becomes a beautiful morning like this! I'm going peace walkin', and then I'll see if I can stand to cough up the 60 bucks for a Wisconsin fishing license with a trout stamp.
I recently drove over to have a look at my perfect little stream near Red Wing. I'm almost afraid to get my fly rod out of its case, after not using it at all last summer. If it's bent or something, I don't think I'll be able to stand the sadness. Or I'll figure out a way to fish with a bent rod.
One of the best things about the stream is that there is almost never anyone on it, except for some cows and a bull I fear greatly. But not as much as I fear being seen by "the fellas," or the yuppie experts with their $300 polarized lenses and other fancy gear, who would detect, in a heartbeat, that I have almost no idea what I'm doing.
But HA!- Even they don't know about this glittering little gem, perfectly landscaped for a shy novice without waders. Well, there's one old guy who's nice; I trust him not to watch me spend 15 minutes tying on a fly and then flinging it into the weeds behind me. If he does, he keeps his distance and minds his own beeswax.