We wait alone for
long hours baking in the sun.
My companion and I hear no voices.
Only the sound of the fishing line is heard as they’re cast.
We’re alone.
Only surrounded by the forest that consumes us.
Our fishing poles dangle the right wrong fate of any oncoming creature of this lake.
The rock we sit upon feel like a pan underneath us,
and we are the eggs.
The unbearable silence bores me,
but is provided by my brothers favorite past time.
He is consumed by the wet underwater world in front of us.
My short numb legs ache as I stand,
and carry me away from my brother as I say goodbye.
I am alone.