In the forest by Silvercreek lake
\nMy old man has a log cabin<\/p>\n
Growing up, we have always\u00a0known about it I thought it was a nice excuse\u00a0to get away from it all All that was before the great cancer got to him As for the log cabin, I never really got to\u00a0see it Couple of years back, I too got married Maybe, one of these days, I’ll take the family along One of these days, let’s see…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In the forest by Silvercreek lake My old man has a log cabin Growing up, we have always\u00a0known about it Every other year, for a few days, he would be gone With his friends, fishing, and what not “Gone fishing, yessir,” mother\u00a0would drawl at the…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":648,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7615","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7615","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/648"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7615"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7615\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11580,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7615\/revisions\/11580"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7615"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7615"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7615"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nEvery other year, for a few days, he would be gone
\nWith his friends, fishing, and what not
\n“Gone fishing, yessir,”<\/em> mother\u00a0would drawl at the dinner table
\nLike it was supposed to be funny
\nin an observational sort of way<\/p>\n
\nThe cares of a family man, the city life, the stress, taxes
\nFor a few days every year, if you can make it, otherwise,
\n“There’s always next year,”<\/em> he’d be\u00a0placating\u00a0over the phone
\nTo us\u00a0he’d say, “Hey, maybe <\/em>we guys could go one day,”<\/em>
\n“A proper family vacation,”<\/em> he’d try to sell us his second-hand dreams,
\n“Nothing like a fishing trip to cure the blues, do you a bunch of good.”<\/em>
\nMother would laugh rhetorically from the kitchen
\nBanging the pots and pans
\nto make up for the words left unsaid<\/p>\n
\nIn a couple of years he transformed into a wraith
\nAs if under the spell of an evil sorcerer
\nHe died, I went to college, brother went to war
\nDad’s tackle lay in the shadowy attic
\nA prop for intricate\u00a0spider webs<\/p>\n
\nAfter brother came back, mom got sick
\nwith unpronounceable afflictions
\nMedical\u00a0euphemisms for old age
\nBrother started his own business
\nTactical multi-tasking between
\nThe logistics of refrigerated trucks and
\nTaking care of mother<\/p>\n
\nHave a hyperenergetic\u00a0kid now
\nThings around the house perpetually seem to be
\nin varying stages of destruction
\nOff late, though, I have been thinking
\nAbout\u00a0the log cabin by Silvercreek\u00a0lake<\/p>\n
\nOr alone, perhaps
\nWould be good if some of the guys from college
\ncould come along…
\nThere’d be fishing and beer
\nAnd the shared sense of nostalgia
\nWhich comes from getting away from yourself<\/p>\n