The first day of August blows a whisper
of cirrus across the glass of the lake.
Your lure ripples the mirror and clouds
roll out in concentric circles
into the wake of a pair of
geese. Down the lake two teenage
boys hoist a rowboat onto the flat
plane of water. They push out easily,
strong arms rowing toward an up
shore cove. The tip of your pole
seduces a pair of blue-tail flies
tired from their free-flight mating.
When your line sings with catch,
they flit for the reeds. The boys
paddle gently into the cove,
not quite out of sight, and shimmy
out of shirts, shoes. The geese make
land and rest now under the maple’s shade.
The goose, long neck tucked
under her wing, sleeps
while the gander keeps watch.
It’s time to leave, you say,
freeing the last bass of the day.
We gather our gear
slowly – like the clouds content
with where we are, where we’re going –
the hint of later in your eyes.
In the cove the boys laugh softly,
bait their hooks, drink beer,
fish their way to manhood.
Georgia
Wallace is a past president of the Kentucky State Poetry Society and a member and
editor/publisher of the quarterly newsletter for Green River Writers, Inc., a
non-profit organization in Kentucky. She
has led poetry workshops and readings in local and regional community
settings. Her chapbook, My Father's Daughter, was published in
1996 by Grex Press. She currently lives in Middletown, Kentucky with her
husband, two cats and their 150 lb. dog, Chance.