every single day by John Straley
Suppose I said the word “springtime” and I wrote the words “king salmon” on a piece of paper and mailed it to you. When you opened it would you remember that afternoon we spent together in the yellow boat when the early whales were feeding and we caught our first fish of the year? Or would you remember that time off Cape Flattery when you were a little girl: your father smoking, telling stories as he ran the boat, then the tug and zing of that very first fish spooling off into the gray-green world; you laughing and brushing back your hair before setting the hook? I know I am hard to understand sometimes particularly when you are standing at the post office with only a piece of paper saying “king salmon” on it but just think of it as a promissary note and that electric tug, that thrill pulling your mind into deep water is how I feel about you every, single day.
