Bait

You promised him

fishing by the sea

built him up

with tales of sharks and blue marlin

the hope of

some quality father & son time

tackle box full of bait

you take him

down that battered dirt road

bottle pressed

to your lips

he watches his daddy

fade away

you sit there on the shore

sway like the waves

drag on a smoke

wave your hand

go on Jack

go play.