Grandpa
He taught me how to catch a trout,
To take it home and clean it out.
Fillet the bone from head to tail,
With nothing, but knife and pail.
He taught me how to bivouac,
To stake a tent and find a track.
Pursue it slow, with not a sound,
As if, our prey could hear the ground.
He taught me how to chop a tree
To smaller pieces, mostly three.
We burned it in the fireplace,
I miss that heat upon my face.
He taught me how to shovel snow
And fish the ice at two below.
With frozen face and icy ear,
Aside the hush, I still could hear.
Copyright © William King | Year Posted 2018
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