August 2026

“A boy and his dad”

A VISUAL POEM

by Edgar A. Guest

Photographs by Dylan Kulmayer

A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip—
There is a glorious fellowship!
Father and son and the open sky
And the white clouds lazily drifting by,
And the laughing stream as it runs along
With the clicking reel like a martial song,
And the father teaching the youngster gay
How to land a fish in the sportsman's way.
Close-up black-and-white photograph of several radishes with leafy stems. The radishes are placed on a textured surface, with some radishes positioned in front of others, and a metal spoon and some other objects are partially visible in the background.

Store bought worms in dirt make for great bait when fishing lakes in small-town Arkansas. On a Sunday evening in August, Robert and his father-in-law, Tom, invited me to come fish with them. I documented their relationship through the paternal ritual of father-son fishing. The wind was stronger than ideal, so we weren’t sure if we would have much success catching anything.

A man standing in a boat filled with fishing gear, smiling, wearing a cap and casual clothes, outdoors near a lush, dense hedge.

I fancy I hear them talking there In an open boat, and the speech is fair. And the boy is learning the ways of men From the finest man in his youthful ken. Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare With the gentle father who's with him there. And the greatest mind of the human race Not for one minute could take his place.


Tom is amused with his humble catch, satisfied with his success despite the conditions.

A man wearing a cap and shirt, holding a fish, standing outdoors near a body of water with a wide open landscape in the background, captured in black and white.

 

Unhooking a Catfish can be tricky business. Luckily for this fish, today is about sport rather than survival.

A person wearing a baseball cap and patterned shirt holding fishing gear outdoors, with landscape in the background.

Pliers are deftly employed to unhook the mouth. Tom always keeps them in his kit.

A man fishing with a fishing pole, a fish on the line, and a spherical bobber hanging from the line against a clear sky.

Tom and his son-in-law fish as regularly as schedules permit. I asked Tom, “in the event no fish can be caught, how long do wait before calling it a day”? He replied with a twinkle in his eye, “All day. That’s why it’s called fishing, not catching”.

Which is happier, man or boy? The soul of the father is steeped in joy, For he's finding out, to his heart's delight, That his son is fit for the future fight. He is learning the glorious depths of him, And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim; And he shall discover, when night comes on, How close he has grown to his little son.

A man wearing a baseball cap, glasses, a white t-shirt, and a black wristwatch, fishing with a rod over the water.

Some call it ‘flow state’, others call it the ‘zone’. Tom waits with the kind quiet patience characteristic of mastery. He carefully jigs his fishing line before earning his second catch of the day.

A black and white photo of a small island with trees in the water, with a larger forested shoreline in the background.

Rough waters disturb the fish. They’ll take shelter just like any creature in bad weather. Luckily the breeze didn’t pick up on this warm summer evening.

A person's hand holding a small fish with its head and body visible, against a dark background.

Rob holds a Bluegill. This kind of fish is as common in an Arkansas lake as water itself. It would be used as a ‘liveline’. This is when a fisherman uses their initial catch, something more appetizing than a worm to entice a larger predatory game fish.

A man wearing a light-colored baseball cap, glasses, and a white t-shirt with red text and a fish design, is fishing with a fishing rod in a dark, rocky area.

Tom admires his catch. He had moved down closer to the water for this one.

Two men wearing caps and casual clothing look down at an object, engaging in a focused activity outdoors on a wooden deck, with trees and clouds in the background.

A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip— Builders of life's companionship! Oh, I envy them, as I see them there Under the sky in the open air, For out of the old, old long-ago Come the summer days that I used to know, When I learned life's truths from my father's lips As I shared the joy of his fishing-trips.

— Edgar A. Guest