Days of Youth and Fish
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
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