Fishing

Ok, its been awhile. Today I want to share something with you that took many years to write, one poem that is finished, but maybe not. I still consider it a draft. This was a hard poem to write. For some of you who knew me back in the days, this may bring back memories. So I share this poem in rememberance of William. He is missed for sure.
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Fishing ( Originally Poor Will)
Draft #4

The sun shone sharply that morning
As my friends James and Will sat fishing on the shore
The water would not spare a fish
And so James and Will jumped in to swim
Blue jeans and all
The sun rose higher still
And the current took hold
Dragging him
Screaming the cold water in
As strength failed
And the light fading
With James out of reach

James sat weeping, huddled on the shore
Time passed ever so slowly
The Police pulled Will from the depths of the reservoir
Like the fish he could not catch

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In a few more minutes I'll add another poem of a lighter mood.