Tag Archives: Jaimee Boake

Fishing Story

By Jaimee Boake


my memories of you tangle
like fishing wire
that grey sunday you took me along in the boat, motor sputtering
to the middle of the dark lake
i learned that bonding meant beer cans in the rusting bottom of the old
Crestliner
you called it your church
with stale trail mix and stony silence to deter hunger
while i, ever conscience of tummy ache turned rumble,
tried not to breathe too loud,
your warning about the wrath of god, should i scare slippery fish,
ringing in my ears

when you finally let out a jubilant holler
(the happiest i may have ever heard you)
it startled me so badly i dropped the rod i carried,
watched water swallow it whole,
understood it’s sinking

as the jackfish flopped in sticky spilled bud light
its hollow eyes watched me on the way back to shore
and i decided miracles didn’t exist


Jaimee Boake is an Edmonton-based English Language Arts, Leadership, and Creative Writing teacher. When not working she loves playing sports and board games, hanging out with her dogs, spending time with family, and drinking lots of coffee. She is happiest, always, in the mountains. She has poetry published in multiple anthologies and magazines. Read more on Instagram.