Fishing Man

At eight years old, he fished and fished

For shell crackers and compliments;

To be a man, one did such things.

So early, before dawn

 

He’d head down to the waterside

With fishing hat and fishing gear;

To be a man, one did such things.

It wasn’t very long

 

That five could eat what one boy caught;

(That boy the size of a tackle box)

To be a man, one did such things.

To fish in summertime –

 

It’s like a page from history;

An era passed into the stream —

To be a man, one did such things:

While one still had hope

One could be

A man

Tagged: Tags

One thought to “Fishing Man”

  1. Great poem! Reminds me of my father as a young lad fishing for his family and now, at 73, he still brings home the fish 🙂 Thanks!

Leave a Reply