When Steven Day was a boy in early grade school, he wrote a poem:

When I went a fishing,
The waves were a swishing.
I threw out my hook,
While my father read a book.

I felt a great tug,
Much too big for a bug.
I said get the pail,
I got me a whale.

Thus was his literary destiny written into the stars.

He became a lawyer. Actually, a fairly successful one.

But every lawyer wants to be a novelist. And so, years later, he wrote “The Patriot’s Grill.”

Sadly, it contains no poetry.