search articles:     from the issue of October 13, 2005         American Life in Poetry  BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE Although this poem by North Carolina native Ron Rash may seem to be just about trout fishing, it is the first of several poems Rash has written about his cousin who died years ago. Indirectly, the poet gives us clues about this loss. By the end, we see that in passing from life to death, the fish's colors dull; so, too, may fade the memories of a cherished life long lost. Speckled Trout Water-flesh gleamed like mica: orange fins, red flankspots, a char shy as ginseng, found only in spring-flow gaps, the thin clear of faraway creeks no map could name. My cousin showed me those hidden places. I loved how we found them, the way we followed no trail, just stream-sound tangled in rhododendron, to where slow water opened a hole to slip a line in and lift as from a well bright shadows of another world, held in my hand, their color already starting to fade. First published in "Weber Studies," 1996, and reprinted from "Raising the Dead," Iris Press, 2002, by permission of the author. Copyright (c) 1996 by Ron Rash, a writer and of Appalachian Cultural Studies at Western Carolina University, whose newest novel is "Saints at the River," Picador Press, 2005. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the UNL Department of English. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry. GO TO: ISSUE OF OCTOBER 13 ARTS HEADLINES FOR OCTOBER 13 MFA ceramics alumni exhibition opens Oct. 17 American Life in Poetry Cabaret for hurricane relief set for Oct. 28 Clarke book signing Oct. 20 Clifford the Big Red Dog comes to Lincoln 'Faculty at 5' begins with first 'Free at 6!' Filmmaker Jost brings features to the Ross Rescued animals take center stage at Lied Ushers needed for 'Wonder of the World' 732232S35092X