Gone Fishin

Jacob has gone fishing as is his habit

in the morning before I wake

and sit writing, sipping coffee,

slight worried about a careless step

or a bear --

                   neither of which I am

capable of preventing.

I don't have any room to talk.

I often hunt alone, know how 

my children must feel with me

in the woods and no one to call

upon should something untowards

happen to me.

                    It's a good day for

fishing -- light wind out of the south,

no shadows to speak of,

the air relatively cool for July.

And, of course, the urge to fish,

the possibility of taking something.

and the possibility of catching

what is not being fished for.

I know how true that is in hunting --

what we seek we may not find

but we will find something.

And go out again the next day.

I am his father and he is my son

and we are doing what fathers

and sons have always done.

-Byron Hoot