In the cool, crisp, morning hours,

He takes himself to the riverside.

It’s an old familiar routine,

One that fills his soul with happiness.

Among the due covered brush,

Just a few inches up the incline,

He whips his favorite fishing pole

back over his right shoulder.

With perfection, precision, and ease,

His whole existence dances

Guiding the line to

The desired location, hoping for

The day’s lunch.

Months and years

Of trial and error,

A few poles gone with the current,

Accidental stumble into water,

He’s been so patient with himself.

This was his time.. where he found answers

And sometimes more confusion…

Where he allowed himself to

Let go…

Because, after all, he’s

Only human, and, well,

Cancer sucks.

©️2021June

Nova Namastè

Written for New 2 Writing’s Weekly Prompt 🙂