String On A Stick

June 29, 2020 at 9:34 pm (Poetry) ()

String on a stick
Was his fishing line
as the boy sat on the banks of a small creek

No line, hook, sinker of a fancy fishing rod
Just sandals on his feet, a dog by his side
and over his head the endless rolling skies above
Skies of blue and sometimes gray
And a sunset to bid adieu to day

He sat and looked at the skies above
The dog wagged his tail
A cricket chirped a brief hello
and a butterfly danced on his nose

He dreamed someday of the man he would become
As he waited for the fish bite on string that never came

Far in the future no creek, no dog, no string on a stick
Just bills and work and deadlines and rush here rush there
Vows of eternal friendship with old classmates he no longer saw
In the adult world, friends are fickle and fleeting
They’re all around on your way up, all gone on your way down

Childhood dreams turn to dust
like sand after a prairie dust storm
The dark clouds no longer have the dramatic thunder of Zeus
But bouts of depression and occasionally despair
Lightning bolts may be dramatic still
But now they’ll keep one down as they move in for the kill

Life was golden down by that creek
with sandals on your feet
and a dog by your side
and clouds in the sky
and sunset bidding the day goodbye
and waiting for the fish bite on string that never came
but somehow life was happy just the same.

-A poem written by Christopher
Monday June 29th 2020

10 Comments

  1. Kritika said,

    ‘A cricket chirped a brief hello’ A lovely childhood poem.
    Childhood days now when looked back were simple and peaceful.

  2. ruchiabhisikta said,

    Wowww

  3. janowrite said,

    I really appreciate your satirical and humourous writing but your poetry is pretty outstanding – hope to see more, Christopher. This one was redolent of mood and a place in time…superb work.

  4. The Bubbly,Tipsy Mermaid (TIB) said,

    Good grief! You gave up too soon on the fish bite. Your poem is sweet.πŸ’¦

  5. Jessica said,

    Nostalgic and filled with bittersweet emotions. The best of times…

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