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"Rites of Passage"
Standing with my father, fly-fishing,
the heavy evening light
catching the arc of our lines
as they dance amid the insects.
Although no words interrupted
the tranquil splash of lure on lake,
I think that it was in fishing
with my father that I learned
to be a son.
YOU ARE READING
An Alchemy of Words
PoesíaA collection of my poems, both old and new. Notable Rankings: 1 in #poetsofwattpad (2021-06-01) 1 in #poetryclub (2021-06-01) 1 in #poetrycommunity (2021-06-18) 1 in #slampoetry (2022-04-13) 1 in #wattpadpoets (2022-04-13) 1 in #wattpadpoet (2022-04...
