Painting by James Webb‘On the Anniversary of My Father’s Death’ by Jeffrey Essmann The Society July 21, 2022 Beauty, Poetry 6 Comments . On the Anniversary of My Father’s Death These rainy mornings have a subtle saltTo them that even in the city canBring back the pier, its rugged paint-chipped spanStill wet with early rain, where by default(Too risky for the boat) our soft assaultWas launched: the war of fishes versus man,A battle waged for hearth and frying panWhere every tightening of the line exalts.And truth be told, I didn’t much like fish(Except for fish sticks, very lower-class)And standing on the pier was pretty cold.But rainy mornings I can’t help but wishTo smell the lake as I hold out my poleAnd watch my dad unhook a small-mouthed bass. . . Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Agape Review, America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. NOTE TO POETS: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. CODEC News:Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 6 Responses Michael Pietrack July 21, 2022 Fishing with one’s father, very nostalgic. I liked how you used the senses in this poem. I could smell it and see it, but most of feel it. Reply Roy E. Peterson July 21, 2022 Poignant memory to which those of us who have lost our father can all relate. I agree with Michael that the use of senses admirably permeates the poem. Reply lu July 21, 2022 What a nice poem. Reply Cheryl Corey July 21, 2022 My favorite part: “the war of fishes versus man, A battle waged for hearth and frying pan”. Speaking as someone who once dabbled in fishing and only managed to land a sunfish, I can appreciate the battle. Details such as “the pier, its rugged paint-chipped span — Still wet with early rain” and “” tightening of the line” add effective imagery. Reply Paul Freeman July 21, 2022 Your poem brought back memories of my own father from similar scenarios. My favourite line: ‘Where every tightening of the line exalts.’ Thanks for the read Jeffrey. Reply Anna J. Arredondo July 22, 2022 Jeffrey, I also found the sensory images in your poem very effective. I can relate to the experience of one small trigger (here the subtle salt of the rainy morning) transporting me suddenly and vividly to another time and place, where memory fills in all the other details. This is the poetry of life, and you have captured it beautifully and poignantly in your sonnet. Lastly, in the final sestet, you demonstrate skillfully how a maybe less-than-pleasant experience can be transformed by loss into a wistful and fond memory. Reply Leave a Reply to Paul Freeman Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.