I have many fond memories of fishing with 'The Old Man'. Driving to a lovely stretch of river on a sunny morning, lugging satchels to our favourite spot, scanning the river for flies hatching and fish feeding while we sip from a flask and discuss strategies. The well-earned pint at the end of the day.
BRIGHT MOMENT
Ancient tree
Hollow, grey and rude
Watching me for hours
Crooked and cross-legged
Plump waxed satchel
Bellyful of secrets
Broken leather strap
No choice but to keep it
Perfection Loop
Remind me how it goes
Try bumping a Hare's Ear
Over the stones, he says
One lucid second
She skips into my heart
Shows me her silver
Before back to the dark
Bright little moment
Cradles and bathes
Whispers sweet words
Carries me for days
Silly old tree
Sipping his tea
Shaking his head
Laughing at me