After I Disappointed a Friend
More grizzly now than man,
he rumbles in the deep forest.
Pines thick at his shoulders,
even the breeze fears to move
through such tight spaces.
In the evening light,
on all fours, he thrashes
against spring’s undergrowth,
and his furry head waves white
like river foam.
He won’t venture to the water
where I linger, just a lone fisherman.
But I call out to him while
the season’s salmon dart away
from every single streamer I toss.
— Dave Malone, author of O: Love Poems from the Ozarks
Photo by Clément M., Creative Commons, via Unsplash.
This is such a tender poem. The ending... oh. "But I call out to him..." and those salmon darting away from every streamer.