All Those Years, They Were Here First.

untitled by tupimiquim

dear fisherman,

I hear you were a good waiter. Rolling silence around in your hands like snowballs. Walking rather than riding. Telling a story rather than refering to your outline. And I hear that you loved to fish. For people and deepwater bass. Sitting there with your feet sinking in the sand.. your wire floating across the sea. You didn’t mind the wait. and with such shotty bait. skinny worms and unexpected truths, I suppose you knew, that you would be sitting there a while.

I believe what they say about ghosts and birds. that you placed some of that patience inside of us. down in the bones where it won’t easily escape.

You waited for all those stubborn souls and shy salmon. A lifetime and not just mine. You gave us the best pieces of you. the only ones that will remain after the world catches fire. the only ones that will matter. your body, not just mine. Thank god.

Ashley