Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016
In the summer we fished the lake
in the high country where the sky touches the land
and the water of the lake is black because of its depth
and cold because of the mountains
and the fish in it are big and fight hard
and taste wonderful when cooked over a campfire.
We slept under the stars then
and fell asleep naming the constellations,
and during the night the wolves came down to look at us.
We were not afraid of them because we were invincible
back then and the world bent to our strength.
In the morning we bathed in the lake and then fished again
and all day you could see the line zipping through the soft pure air
and the plug going through the water and the fish coming in to it
and the sound of them fighting us.
We didn’t talk then, just fought the fish
and listened to that world vanishing around us.


© 2016
It was the realization the world he so loved was vanishing that prompted Adams to become a hobo for a few years.
E C Vadnais
Written by
E C Vadnais  Rhode Island, USA
(Rhode Island, USA)   
347
     Mary Winslow
Please log in to view and add comments on poems