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Feb 2017
My father,
he took me hunting
at the young age of five.

One time we went fishing
on a lake called Cold
I caught a speckled trout,
from then on I was sold.

Then from the sea in a dory
a lobster trap he stole,
I've yet to figure what that was about.

Living in Canada
lends its self to a bounty of beast.

The fowl of the sky
with a rifle I did shoot.
They were tasty and we did feast.

I learned to set a snare
to catch a rabbit
and make a stew.

I'd gut them and clean them,
I learned all of this...
and in the back
in a smoke house
hung all kinds of fish.

You don't have to
be able to understand something
to be able to use it.

But you have to understand something
to be able to use it well.

I guess that this applies to life.

My father and I, well, we were just learning to grow...
he's gone now, and I pray God rest his soul.
Kenneth Irving MacPherson
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       ---, Mack, naΗ§Γ­, PoetryJournal, ryn and 14 others
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