Paradise for me as I grow older, poems, a lifetime in the outdoors, my life simple, rare, hoping that you find truth in lines set bare…
Paradise
By Joe Williams
I fished today,
January water so cold
Fish lie still
I arc my line to ride the current
Sliding deep, the river is my lead
The dance of the fly, swimming deep
Are you there?
The arc of the cast highlights gray bark of winter trees against blue skies that blind me, shimmering river currents, voltage high, spark memories of youthful times
My father a man of the city found fish
He abandoned me for the river…
Winter cold meant a fire set close to river bank kept him warm
He brought me cinnamon rolls
To keep me busy
I burnt them to perfection
He fished on
Paradise,
I fish alone
Solo, no fire or rolls
Casting my line
Sliding deep, the river is my lead
The dance of the fly, slow in winter sleep
Are you there?
