Poem photo

In the cool of an evening

On a summer breeze, cattails cured my soul

To that old farm pond, we fished as kids,

Before I get too old.

 

Big yellow grasshoppers on the end of hooks,

Brought denizens from the deep.

Flopping frenzy on the bank,

Trying to retreat.

 

Out excited voices rose and fell,

A song only fishermen know,

Who drag a line of garden worms,

Through weeds where memories grow.

 

With barefeet crossed on a hollow log,

We figured out some things.

Like joy is a twelve-pound catfish,

Or the sound of circling wings,

 

Before God dims his light of day,

I'll gaze back one late time.

Hoping you can feel me here,

When the world was yours and mine.