Goodbye Fishies

Fishing was a joy A way to let time float by Every weekend with his St. Croix in hand He would take a leisurely walk to the lake And as he did for over fifty years Fly fish It was always the act Not the catch That was his way of letting the world Fade magically away Still… these last several years The lake had been quiet and still And try as he did All the fish seemed to be… gone There were times as a boy When bite by bite The crowded lake, filled with fish Would grab the hook Until forced to stop by the weight of the load He would lie on the cool green grass And enjoy the summer sun But those were the days of youth and fish When the earth was still warmed by the sun We’ve taken so much and given back less Those days are long since gone