On the Columbia River near Vantage,
Washington, we fished for whitefish
in the winter months; my dad, Swede-
Mr. Lindgren-and me. They used belly-reels,
pencil-length sinkers, red, yellow, or brown
flies baited with maggots.
They wanted distance and went clear out there
to the edge of the riffle.
I fished near shore with a quill bobber and a cane pole.
My dad kept his maggots alive and warm
under his lower lip. Mr. Lindgren didn’t drink.
I liked him better than my dad for a time.
He lets me steer his car, teased me
about my name “Junior,” and said
one day I’d grow into a fine man, remember
all this, and fish with my own son.
But my dad was right. I mean
he kept silent and looked into the river,
worked his tongue, like a thought, behind the bait.
(Raymond Carver)
More Poetry from Raymond Carver:
Raymond Carver Poems based on Topics: Mind, Time, Man, Thought & Thinking, Cars, Fathers, Winter, Sons- Stupid (Raymond Carver Poem)
- The Best Time Of The Day (Raymond Carver Poem)
- The Scratch (Raymond Carver Poem)
- Circulation (Raymond Carver Poem)
- The Current (Raymond Carver Poem)
- An Afternoon (Raymond Carver Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Man Poems, Mind Poems, Time Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Sons Poems, Fathers Poems, Winter Poems, Cars PoemsBased on Keywords: months, lower, worked, liked, pole, steer, washington, cane, bait, quill, fished