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.
Copyright © Brittany Martin | Year Posted 2007
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