Fishing

Sharks and Barracudas always take the bait

she opened and closed
her mouth, a fish
out of water, gasping
for the air of life….
the angler deftly
chummed the moment:

“I did not do what
you wanted, because,
I did not want to do it!”

a ripple on the placid surface
of mental juxtaposition,
chanced dead reckoning
into an attitudinal tidal wave,
a fornication of latitude,
the belaying pin clubbing of
a constipated personal dilemma,
hooked, gutted, cleaned, and,
oh so… delicious to devour,
verbal sake soaked sashimi,
commented and parsed
on a sinker leaded  line….
a dysfunctional relationship
cast into the depths, it is
a soon to be swallowed
dangling morsel of raw fleshy
articulated…..bait.

©2012, Donald Harbour

A grandfather’s wisdom

The grandfather and his
grandson, walked a path.
Tripping the grandfather
reached to steady the lad.
“Watch your feet,” he said,
“See what is on the path ahead.”
The child smiled up at
the man not knowing that
a life’s lesson had been given.
They reached the creek bank,
sitting under the branches
of an ancient tolerant oak.
There a young child and
an old bent, aging man
filled with the wisdom of time
leaned against two hundred years.
And he said, ” Be careful
of the waters edge for it is
there that a snake may hide.”
Wisdom. The hooks were baited.
bobber dangling from the cane
pole laid gently in the water.
“Hold steady son,” he said,
“You’ll see the fish take the
bait and the bobber will tell.”
A lesson in life, patience, wait.
Through the day the child listened,
hearing the gentle, affirming
words of age, a monumental benefit.
As the hours passed, a blink of time,
an imprint made, a memory given,
the child never forgot the fishing
lesson. He never forgot the kindness
in the voice of his grandfather.
He never forgot those precious
moments that one day cast him
into the image of a man as they had
all the men before. The grandfathers
taking the hand of a small child,
giving him knowledge, character,
heritage, giving him purpose.

Copyright: 2009, Donald Harbour