In the ethereal purple skies of the early morning
I quietly sit upon the serene banks of the lake.
awaiting the tale tell twitching of my fishing rod.
In the calm of the cool morning as i await my first
bite I reminisce on other days spent on the waters.
My thoughts turn to my childhood sitting right here
with my dad at my side and smile fondly at the memory.
Every word of gentle encouragement is joyously remembered.
each little pat on the back when I reeled in a blue gill
is happily recalled as I pull out the old photos in
my tackle box and check out the small catfish squirming
on my little fishing pole.
My thoughts are suddenly interrupted a my pole begins
to bob up and down, and I do all those little things
that my dad taught me all those many years ago.
Donavon Scott Vinson
