Monday, July 16, 2018

The Fishing Hole

They strolled along yapping,
bubbling with chatter,
all about Monster
stripping hooks cleanly.

Blue jays were barking,
sparrows in a frenzy,
Big Creek was rumbling
they heard without seeing.

Loading their hooks
with worms big as pencils,
they cast out deep,
skipped rocks while waiting.

They sat there all day,
the hot sun blazing,
and all they reeled in 
was a catfish and a sucker.

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