Poem Three for the Hour Three

my father was a fisherman
he had his fishing tackles
kept at the backyard store room
i loved the fresh catch
freshwater fish, prawns and shells
i would asked him
why he needed to fish
his answer was, ”i love your mom”
i always wondered why he told me that
it was like a deathless joy in his heart
i have learned Ichthyology
and still a mystery for me
where do fishes came from
what would be like if there are no fishes
in the ocean, lakes, and rivers
i was in grade five
when my father died
i told myself i don’t like ”fishtalk”

two decades and seven
i have learned to fish
at the Steveston Waterfront
it reminds me of the one who loved my mom
until i loved to fish and yes fish loved me too
i love cooking, i love serving
and tell my friends bon appetit
it’s unfleeting words of wisdom
why good catch
is like my father’s love
to someone’s best
he fished with all his love

( my fishing memories at Steveston Waterfront, Steveston, British Columbia)