Got to go there to get here
I taught myself to make flies,
To clean a reel, and unsnare a line;
How to measure the float to hook
And set the right weight of lead
If after a pike or a tench
In a river or brook.
I learned all this to teach my son
To fish well and feed his little ones;
Hours on the bank in the sun.
The rod pawned for a powder gun,
He shot himself numb
Because his friend said it should be done.
I taught my daughter how to read
The heroic in the normal deed.
Every type of fiction and fact,
How to sew or draw,
All from a paperback.
Through long winter days
With the same love and care I gave
Lessons on mistakes her brother made.
She knew so much,
Yet I still lost touch
When she became a media slave.
But times have changed, goes the cliche;
All that love was not a waste,
Years passed and back they came.
Love had remained throughout
The maze of youth and doubt,
And when they felt lost, it saved.
After all, I had made the same mistakes,
I grew for my children’s sakes, which took strength,
Or I may have stayed dumb,
My life over, lost,
My children a cost,
Instead of bliss for years to come.