Fiction: Memories of the Shore

Memories of the Shore

Memories of the Shore
By Rachelle Chang

Come sit with me a while beside the shore;
We’ll catch a thing or two before we’re done,
And meanwhile sit with the sun bright overhead.
I haven’t come for years, since I was young
And liked to sit beside the shore and fish.
My dad would take me on a rare weekend,
Carrying our bamboo fishing poles
Strung with chord, and at the end, a hook
To which we’d fasten bread crumbs or some crust…
I never cared if I caught anything,
But I loved to sit beside my dad and fish
In the shade, in the quiet, sitting side by side.
And afterwards we’d drive for lunch someplace,
And I could walk with my dad as if I belonged.
But the fishing was better, I had him to myself
By shore or stream for half a day or more.
I don’t go fishing now, but when I do
I like to sit and not catch anything.
Keep company with me a little while;
I don’t often get the chance to be with you.

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