I’ve many times walked this bank before,
In winters breeze and summers lore,
Reminiscing of the wondrous days of yore.
On this day, I returned fishing, pole in hand,
Clinging as I always had to the very edge of the land,
Straining out sneakers cloaked in the sand.
With a snap of the line,
And a twist of the spine,
I am transported back in time.
To the same place many years before,
Standing on that gentle shore,
Yearning to return evermore.
