She was sitting on the river bank,
Her silver eyes shining,
Her thick hair in braids.
Her hands slowly cut the water,
Like a giant knife
Would cut melting butter.
She decided to turn her hands into a net
To catch the fish,
Red and swirling.
And so she did with no shadow of a doubt.
The fish stayed fish.
It was stupid that way.
She had her hands turned into a bucket.
It was much easier
To carry the fish like that.
A bit later she had to make a frying pan
Out of her hand.
Pretty hot, but bearable.
She was proud of her first time fishing.
The fish stayed fish.
It was tasty that way.
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