Columbia Coho, 5.27.2018
You are the hands of my father filleting steaks,
smell of alder in the smokehouse,
roar of a diesel engine chugging upriver,
ocean salt melting in my mouth.
Where the salmon run,
I am home.
Columbia Coho, 5.27.2018
You are the hands of my father filleting steaks,
smell of alder in the smokehouse,
roar of a diesel engine chugging upriver,
ocean salt melting in my mouth.
Where the salmon run,
I am home.