Fireflies brighten the grass by the shore

as you pass under the low-hanging trees

in your father’s green aluminum boat

above the submerged farms and rock quarries;

setting the lines on the branches, the leaves

just skimming the surface, you navigate

through an alcove, then settle in between

the bait cooler and the motor to wait.

At times, you see a faint light reflected

from the lamp on a small school of minnows

like silver coins flipping end over end,

disappearing in the darkness below,

while your father gathers a large white net

and casts it out, as if making a bed.