To A Sibling

~ Candace ~ 11 Comments

 

you’ve gone and
left me
here
with no guidance
the other half
of our collective
memory
the weaker half
I step into the
swirling shadows
of aging
with no one to
follow
no footsteps
in which to place
my stumbling feet
no way to anticipate
where this path
will lead me
so I will tread
slowly
bravely
humbly
as you would have

The Fisherman

~ Candace ~ 34 Comments

image

(photo by Gabriella)

The old man had fished trout steams all over the country. He had the best tackle money could buy, everything his many guides had recommended. He’d fished in clear mountain streams and beside raging rivers. He’s caught salmon, walleye, perch, and pike.
Now in retirement he has met his match. Every morning he sits along the stream in the little town near his home, patiently casting his line over and over, trying to catch the elusive trout that live in its deep pools.

finding refuge
under an old stone bridge
native trout

——

Haibun Monday # 6 at d’Verse