I thought of you this morning as I got up and looked at the sky
the wintry greyness awaiting its recycling by the night
Imagined you both in the dinghy over the reef
Hauling in fish if you were lucky and seaweed if you weren't
Trudging back up the hill that always leaves us breathless
with your catch (because you are lucky) and the rods and the fishing bag
I was wondering who would go up first,
the man or the boy, as you share your life's time.
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