Ode To Iris Point

On the wind ripped shores of Iris Point,
The Alaskan Spirit did anoint.
The half muted souls from Caroline,
When they plunged to waters sheared by time.

Left to the East, where their rights,
To a land without rule and the northern lights.
They offered their trust to Jake and Dave,
As loon and merganser tethered to wave.

Ferrules true and tippet void of knick,
They launched from camp, ore water so slick.
Through the river they slashed as each one said,
"What creatures are these - so rusty, so red?"

The casting, the mending, the stripping began,
With ethereal fervor, with graphite in hand.
The loops did unfold, the 4X unraveled,
The sockeye did boil, as they spawned in the gravel.

Promises kept, so swiftly delivered,
As swift as the current, as swift as the river.
They connected with char, with grayling, with trout,
Short time did it take to figure it out.

The click-paw she whaled, the disc drag did hiss,
Often they landed, sometimes they missed.
One thing was clear, joy was not lacking,
As muscular rainbows slashed into backing.

Flexing rods, like magical wands,
Casted brotherhood spells, these men did bond.
Obvious too, they fished without care,
They reeled and they laughed, they fished with the bear.