MONDAY’S POEM: Fishing

I wrote this yesterday, Fathers’ Day here in the US. I was thinking about my father and his father and our times together. Good times.

Fishing

Fishing with Grandfather
Requires a little boy’s
Patience.

Driving to the stream
Seems endless, boring.
Are we there yet?

Hiking to the hole
Is hot, insects biting.
Is this fun?

Casting a plastic lure
Requires skill, practice.
How’d it tangle?

Learning to be still
Is its own reward.
Was that a nibble?

Letting go of all desire
Is the source of joy.
Reel him in boy!

Fishing for small-mouth
In Otter Creek.
As good as it gets!

©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

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