You'd think
With almost 100
Thousand words
Scratched on paper
I would
Be progressing
Inexorably
Toward the finish.
Instead, I find myself
Dreaming of brook trout
From 40-degree water
Caught at the bottom
Of a steep ravine fringed
With tag alders
Specifically,
Brook brook trout sautéed
In soft dill butter
With shallots and morels
Eaten by firelight
Over a smoky fire
With a glass
Of Sancerre.