Fishing With My Pa

The sun squeaks over the horizon, the night falls and day arises. And like a young child I was once before I held my papa's hand and head for the door. Ready- to grasp the slimy worms in the coffee colored dirt that squirms! Ready- to mounch on beef jerky from a cheap old store and fish on a lake and reach to the sea floor. The ripples of the water were like music you could watch and the tree talked as me and pa took a sip from our scotch and whistle to the noises in the air while rocking on the boat to the moment we share. And over time- the night begins to steal the day, and the days says good bye- like a person would to god as the prey. Colors of the sunset were a bit blurry from that scotch- but being there was fun to watch all the memories that sooned to fade of all the best times he and I made back when I was four, when he taught me how to fish- as we head for the door, that was something I dearly missed.