A new fishing season

(for Simon) 

It is the fifteenth day of a cold February

but in your head it is a beginning:

minnows have been trapped,

red threads waxed.

Wings fixed to bronze shafts.

It is the first day of the fishing

a boat has been readied,

an engine greased.

Rods and old lines have been re-tested,

talk has been of winter weather

changing to chill spring

and expectation.

New openings beckon fresh hopes,

we have survived the darkness

of lives in suspension  

through January.

You have given me a yearning, 

filled my head with possibilities,

laughed at my mistakes,

but left me reeling.