There is one way I’ll always remember you.
It's a memory that clings to me like clothes to my back
on a Friday afternoon in July.
Your boss let you out early.
I remember the sun on my face
and the sound of
the swamp cicadas seeming to cheer me on.
“Go on.” I hear you say
“Give it a shot. “
There is one way I’ll always remember you.
I stare at my target,
a hard blue plastic
bucket at your feet.
I pick up the Snoopy fishing pole and watch the red bobber
twist and turn about
at the end of the line.
Just like we practiced, I think.
With the swing of an arm and the pull of the trigger I cast it away
and listen to the thunk of the bobber as it lands
in the bucket.
I remember the look on your face.
I haven’t heard that sound
and I haven’t seen that face since.
But I keep casting.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 12:55 AM UTC
There is one way I’ll always remember you.
It's a memory that clings to me like clothes to my back
on a Friday afternoon in July.
Your boss let you out early.
I remember the sun on my face
and the sound of
the swamp cicadas seeming to cheer me on.
“Go on.” I hear you say
“Give it a shot. “
There is one way I’ll always remember you.
I stare at my target,
a hard blue plastic
bucket at your feet.
I pick up the Snoopy fishing pole and watch the red bobber
twist and turn about
at the end of the line.
Just like we practiced, I think.
With the swing of an arm and the pull of the trigger I cast it away
and listen to the thunk of the bobber as it lands
in the bucket.
I remember the look on your face.
I haven’t heard that sound
and I haven’t seen that face since.
But I keep casting.