Fishing

I went to the north
while traveling south.
I wanted to go fishing
all by myself.

Cold water
Fish Fry
and long country drives—
you bounced along with me thru out the ride.

Clear fast river
hiding bluejays—
holding memories that never fade.

Drifting a fly
in front of a log
missing a trout—
ain’t that what it’s all about.

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