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Fishing Hole

By Brandon Glen Pfeiffer


Load up all my gear

roll the windows down

take off on the gravel road,

swing the back end out

heading to the fishing hole

where the big fish wait

dirt flying behind me

dust in my eyes

itís a short drive

to see the shimmering waves

cast out in the water

and hope the fish are brave

if I look close

I can see the fish

Lots of largemouth

Nestled in the weeds

Beautiful and bright

they still donít want to bite

maybe itís too early

maybe itís too warm

either way I donít care,

itís good to just be out.

When the fish donít bite

And Iím scorching in the sun

I hold my breath,

Jump in,

The dust dissolves

From my sweaty, salty skin.