Christmas Poem from the past

Dad’s poles gathered, along with mine
PFD’s and tackle checked one more time

As I hitched the boat, memories they flashed
How special our Christmas Eve casts

A tradition just for us two he would say
He knew too well, when a father up and ran away

Boat plug and spare keys?
The many times he said to me

Test the lights, everything in stow?
Son check the tires, one looks low

Spare clothes and shoes, hand warmers too
Got’em! Just bet these things he already knew

Brisk little breeze oer the lake does blow
Pop’s old jacket frayed, some lining is starting to show

The kicker now purrs, at idle with little wake
On this his favorite of all crappie lakes

Nearing the brush pile he tutored me to make
Now holding the slabs for our Christmas bake

A great fisherman, my dad
A better sportsman & teacher, nobody had

Just so you understand
My hero, my mentor, and in all things my Superman

His bail now flipped, as the jig it swings
A long pause,…..then silence broken as the reel goes zing

Son, not on top of the brush, just past
Bring it back slow, not too fast

These tips & pointers he’s engrained in me
I treasure the feeling of his company

The lump now grows, the one in my throat
As I glance at items here in dad’s boat

How loved these Christmas Eve casts
You see, one year ago today my dad made his last

by D. Michael 12/22/2022 aka SpeckledSlab