a Father on the Lake

a Father on the Lake

 

 

I was with you

just days before

you were no longer there

 

before your eyes stared off

in some startled direction

that mistook you

for a memory

 

we spoke of sons of fathers

who once existed

in a fishing boat

smoking cigarettes

and chatting about life,

my short one

and yours lengthening 

from years of experience

in terms I could understand

 

we laughed into the bond we cast

then suddenly you had a strike

the pole bent fervently

 

and you remembered me

one last time.

 

 

erin-cilberto

2/12/25

Reviews

[Troy Henson]

Defining moment, Jacob. I am so sad for your loss but so happy that you had this one last moment.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I am still grateful for that time with him...was 8 years ago...
still seems like yesterday.read moreI am still grateful for that time with him...was 8 years ago...
still seems like yesterday.
Thank you, Troy.
j.

[DIVYA]

To be with a loved one in their final moments and then those moments extend beyond lifetimes. A father is forever and so is a son. It's a poem that will stay with me...Wonderfully written .

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I was so lucky to have a last visit during which he was lucid enough to know me.
Thank you, Divya,
j.

[Lorry]

This has a real feel about a father and son despite it not naming its participants, which could so easily be a nephew/uncle or neighbour to an enquiring kid. Yet it feels very familial, if indeed that is a word I haven't just made up.
Perhaps it is the talk of sons and fathers that made me think this, but friends could be talking about their own kin and descendants.
Anyhow, it did remind me of the time my dad and uncles took me and my brother Sea fishing, which in grown up language means a time to get drunk without those meddling women killing their fun.
It was great to see my dad having a great time with his brothers, which I later found out was because of what they were hydrating with, right up to the point where a speed boat got too close and created a wave where you'd think one of them would lose their balance and go sploosh, but you'd be wrong!
Splash! In I went, realising too late that I hadn't learned to swim, but thankfully jaws hadn't come out yet or I'd be thinking of far worse thoughts.
Long story short, we kept it "our secret" that no one jumped in to help me and instead a bunch of drunk grown ups held out their fishing rods and told me to climb out!
All I can do is thank the day that I found out grown ups can be a******s too, but I can laugh about it now, until my meds wear off at least! 😃

[jacob erin-cilberto]

My grandfather was one of those...he never took me fishing, he just said "get the hell out of the boat."
Our secret.
Thank you for sharing, Lorry,
j.

[Cherrie]

Memories and fishing are a perfect pairing. I loved the trip it took me on.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your words, Cherrie,
j.

[Pete]

the one that didn't get away. we don't need bait for a memory, only something to trigger it. intriguingly told.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your comment, Pete,
j.

[Linda alexander]

Portrays relation in a picturesque style wow to this poem for genuinity👏👏👏

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind comment, Linda,
j.

[MCS]

This brought me both enjoyment and sadness. My father was a quiet, serious navy man, of very few words, but out in open water as he and I fished, he shared wisdom that I still carry today. Thank you, Jacob.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

He sound like someone I would have enjoyed meeting.
thank you, Mary,
j.

[MomzillaNC]

Oh… this brought tears to my eyes. It took me back to when Gramma Mary died. Gran had been taking care of her in a nursing home for several years after a stroke put her there. In all that time, she never knew Gran. On the day she died, though… Gran had Gramma Mary leaning against her body to prop her up and comb her hair. Gramma suddenly held onto Gran's arm holding her up and strained to turn her head to look at Gran. Gramma said, "Dorothy, you were always the best daughter."

Then, Gramma Mary relaxed, closed her eyes and sighed… and was gone.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a good moment at the end...thank you for sharing, Momz.
j.

[MomzillaNC]

yvw :)

[Red Brick Keshner]

This is my weeping willow kind of read and poem… it could but it doesn’t weep in the typical way that w3 would… but the atmosphere remains dreamlike even if the movement is real… thanks j.
Freds🙏🏻🕊

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Freds,
j.

[Red Brick Keshner]

You’re welcome j 🙏🏻🕊
Freds

[nadia dmitri]

Sad and beautiful. The first stanza captures that delicate heartbreak. Great work.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind words,nadia,
j.