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It's Saturday

It’s Saturday, a summer day
The day that dad comes by to pick me up
To head to the Cape to fish.

First, it’s to the bait shop
To pick up worms and squid
Then to Falmouth, where waves and sand await.

At the beach, we wait a while.
“No fishing until 6:00!”
Is what the lifeguard post reads.

It’s time to enter. We go in.
The rocky sand crunches underfooot
And a salty breeze tickles my skin

Still fairly bright, for six o’clock. (It’s still summer, after all)
We cast our lines and wait for bites.
Talking some, waiting some.

Finally, I get the first one.
It starts with a tiny tug
Almost too small to feel.

But I’m not a beginner.
I can feel the nibbles.
But not yet. I’ll wait.

A harder tug. A bigger pull.
At last, a yank! I set the rod
Then reel it in, and pray that I won’t lose it.

I know I’ve got it.
I see the trail
It leaves behind in the water.

The fish knows its caught.
But still it struggles.
It flails wildly, splashing, bubbling

I haul it out of the waves.
It’s still trying to get away.
To no avail; into the cooler it goes.


Soon Dad’s got one too.
One by one, we pull fish out of the sea
Like rabbits out of a hat.

Soon, the sun begins to sink
Beneath the waves of hues of pinks and reds
Surrounded by white, puffy guards.

The bright sun throws everything
Into high relief, making shadows,
Illuminating the descending darkness.

The sun has left, the colors gone
The moon has risen into the sky
Smiling at us with all her grace

Across the waves, a pillar white
Shimmers like the stars at night
A path of light, across the sea.

At last, it’s time
To pack and leave
We’ve caught more fish than we’ll ever need

We rinse away sand
Clean the fish
Dry ourselves off.

In the car, we travel home.
Weary, tired, still with sand
I think about the day I had.

A day of fishing, of a little quiet.
A good trip, I reflect.
Slowly, slowly, I fall asleep...and smile.





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