I keep on thinking.
If I sit here for long enough,
A line, one true line,
Will rise like some miraculous fish to the surface,
Brilliant and lithe in the late sunlight,
And offer itself into my hands.
I keep thinking that as the weeks go by,
and the waters never change.
— Charles Wright, from “21,” Littlefoot: A Poem (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2007)