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Scott Simpson



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Scott Simpson

Call It a Day

Call It A Day

I spent the morning with my father
Fishing for lake trout in the stream
We caught nothing but the north wind
And a hand full of rainbow colored dreams

He smoked the pipe my grandpa gave him
I chewed a blade of long-stemmed grass
The water clear as the future
The fish as hungry as the past

A storm rolled in above the mountains
And from the far bank he did say
Looks like the good Lord wants us somewhere else
I guess we'll call it a day

Working figures in the lamp light
Lining up ciphers on the page
His neck was red as the clay soil
His forehead pale as the sage

He'd shave his pencils with a jack-knife
He kept our savings in a jar
He knew the shortness of a dollar bill
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He knew a little could go far

And when the bankers came one evening
And there was not enough to pay,
He said, Looks like the good Lord wants us somewhere else
I guess we'll call it a day

One day I saw him by the barn door
Lean his whole weight upon the latch
Thin as a weather-beaten split-rail
Light as a burned-out kitchen match

He'd spent his days, he'd spent his body
He didn't know no other way
What you hold back in your livin' son
He said, you'll only waste upon your grave

And when his body finally gave out
I knew exactly what he'd say
Looks like the good Lord wants me somewhere else, son,
I guess I'll call it a day...
Looks like the good Lord wants me somewhere else, son,
I guess I'll call it a day.