To seek the rises on the ledge
As we cruise the water's edge...among such beauty.
Forgotten I haven't, O' creature of flash and speckled brown
Giving life to our imagined crown
As we work the stream bed down...into our past.
Forgotten I haven't, those who pine among the blogs
Sweeping streamers, chucking frogs
Floating dries in search of hogs below the fading sun...
I'm only busy in the now
Wondering how the water plows
Past the rocks and runs of memory...
Spring is but a song away...I'll meet you on the banks
Together we'll give thanks
That nothing is truly ever...
forgotten.
You bring the beer.
Not forgotten is the way to be, Mike. I'm glad to see you back with another post; I was afraid you had forgotten the pleasures of blogging and given it up, although every now and then I'd check to see. Your poem is a fun one to read, very traditional but to the point in your approach-- until the final line when I nearly laughed out loud at the adroit turn of attitude and perspective. You bring the beer, indeed! No problem!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate you checking in from time to time, Walt. With a move in the fall and the kids in the throes of youth sports, time creeps away. But I'm here and I'm glad you are too! Glad I got a laugh out of you!
ReplyDeleteLove the poem. I especially like how you tie in blogging with fishing, we need something to occupy our winters! (And give our eyes a break from fly tying)
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Ben. I appreciate the comment and kind words! Yep, blogging about fishing sure helps the time go by as well as connecting us fishy folk! Glad to be connected to you!
DeleteBest,
Mike