Fishing For Memories

One day I took to fishing, far out beyond the shore, wearing my father's waders, the ones I always adored. Back when I was little, the fish seemed much bigger, I would watch my father's casting, his hook landing in the middle. When all the fish came biting, and my father would give a yell, the water would call awake, the biggest of fish tales. The best memories of him, are casted to way above, and when I wear his waders, he'll know I'm sending love.