big john's pond

[big john’s pond]

He tried his best to teach me
how to tie my very first knot.
But he’d thread his line too quickly
or maybe I’d just get lost.
“You can sit here, if you’re quiet.”
So no sound was ever my fault.
Just his busy hands making music
inside that old, grey tackle box.
He once told me being out on water
was his way of talking to god.
I’ve lost my knack for believing,
but it might be worth a shot
If I woke up before the sun,
pulled up to his old spot,
played his backroad country,
and tried my hand at that fishing knot.
Maybe then, I could talk to him again
out on Big John’s pond.

until next time. -cd