The Ballad of the Stoic Fisherman

it was a warm and sunny day
and let there be no doubt
it would have likely stayed that way
a sudden awful shout
disturbed the gently swaying reeds
a fisherman had scored
a bloated body, dirty deeds
had earned their just rewards
no documents on the deceased
and missing fingertips
unlikely that he'd seen a priest
and in his pocket, chips
three dollar ones, a five, one more
they add up to thirteen
the settling of an old score
that's what they might have been
perhaps a cautionary tale
to silence any doubt
he may have plead to no avail
the day his luck ran out

our fisherman considered all
unhooked the body's vest
and following no protocol
discretion seeming best
moved to another fishing spot
unused that day, his scale
and came home empty, having caught
only a fishing tale