we stood there on the dock, the waves coming in slow
the most familiar feeling, but you, I’d hardly known
your red hair looked like a campfire
dancing on your head
while your words warmed me deeply
as you frowned at me and said
“there’s no fish in this lake, I wanna go inside”
I laughed as we sat there, smiled and replied
“I was just like you when my grandpa took me to this dock
give it 10 more minutes, if there’s no bites, then we’ll stop”
you grabbed my hand and sat down, feet over the side
gave me your pink fishing pole, little eyes opened wide
looking for the fish, but it was too dark to see down there
leaned against my side, as the springtime breeze cooled the air
it didn’t seem so long ago, I was here with someone else
and he smiled like I smiled at you, while we fished by ourselves
he taught me to be patient and he taught me to live slow
while all I might’ve taught you, was that the fish don’t always show
after that, we went back in the house and said our quick goodbyes
I ruffled the fire on your head as you hugged around my side
kind of like I did when I let my grandpa go,
but I didn’t think this would be the last time, I’d see you again
though
as quickly as you came in my life
that’s as quickly you both went out
it’s all the same anyway, that’s how family things go about
but I’ll never forget that little smile and your little dig
when I lied and said, “I think we’ve got one, and it’s pretty big”
you said “Johnny it’s been 10 minutes and we haven’t caught a fish,
I’m getting really cold and I think we’re pretty bad at this”
I wish he could teach me again so then we’d actually catch a few
but he’s gone away, and now so have you
sometimes people die, and sometimes people’s parents get divorced
now you’re just a little stranger, who I fished with once before
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
we stood there on the dock, the waves coming in slow
the most familiar feeling, but you, I’d hardly known
your red hair looked like a campfire
dancing on your head
while your words warmed me deeply
as you frowned at me and said
“there’s no fish in this lake, I wanna go inside”
I laughed as we sat there, smiled and replied
“I was just like you when my grandpa took me to this dock
give it 10 more minutes, if there’s no bites, then we’ll stop”
you grabbed my hand and sat down, feet over the side
gave me your pink fishing pole, little eyes opened wide
looking for the fish, but it was too dark to see down there
leaned against my side, as the springtime breeze cooled the air
it didn’t seem so long ago, I was here with someone else
and he smiled like I smiled at you, while we fished by ourselves
he taught me to be patient and he taught me to live slow
while all I might’ve taught you, was that the fish don’t always show
after that, we went back in the house and said our quick goodbyes
I ruffled the fire on your head as you hugged around my side
kind of like I did when I let my grandpa go,
but I didn’t think this would be the last time, I’d see you again
though
as quickly as you came in my life
that’s as quickly you both went out
it’s all the same anyway, that’s how family things go about
but I’ll never forget that little smile and your little dig
when I lied and said, “I think we’ve got one, and it’s pretty big”
you said “Johnny it’s been 10 minutes and we haven’t caught a fish,
I’m getting really cold and I think we’re pretty bad at this”
I wish he could teach me again so then we’d actually catch a few
but he’s gone away, and now so have you
sometimes people die, and sometimes people’s parents get divorced
now you’re just a little stranger, who I fished with once before
