They didn’t hear me as I stepped from the woods,
and as soon as I saw them, I stepped back into the trees,
pausing only long enough to snap a picture. This wasn’t,
after all, something you saw every day, a father and son
perched on the creek bank, examining what they caught
in the little blue net. I want to hold the image of them
in my mind forever, as if that could ensure that thirty years
from now this boy, grown, would be crouched on this bank
with a son of his own, teaching him all the special secrets.