Poem Without a Boat In It

Do you remember that long-ago summer Camping out down by the lake? You, me, your sister, and my mother And all of the memories we’d make? Fishing, we found, was a pointless pursuit For all that we managed to hook Was the shoulder strap of your bathing suit And I laughed at how silly it looked Then I swore with a mock-vengeful note That every last fish, I would catch ‘em Someday in my very own fishing boat And I’d call it Michelle’s Attachment If there’s one thing I’ve learned about friendship It’s that it takes two for smooth sailing On our don’t-let-it-come-to-an-end ship It’s the small things I find worth regaling It’s been many years since that fateful day When eleven-year-old me made that vow And my non-existent boat, by the way Still has your name on its bow. For Michelle Pruitt