That quiet shade beneath the bridge,
where as a child with rod in hand,
I'd fish for minnows in the stream,
out of the nagging noon day sun.
That haven where my dreams began.
Author notes
Pic from Aliceinpoetryland
A contest entry
- PIF/Picture Inspired by AliceinPoetryLand.
1100 points, ended August 17, 2008, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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A delightful piece...
A delightful piece; I was blessed as a youth, having the use of the family's canoe to go on my own personal fishing trips - my only regret was my inability to get my younger brothers to join me; nice job. --Joe
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This takes me to childhood, and even every now and then, simply the imagery of fishing on a hot and lazy day. Beautiful poem, I like this alot.
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sure
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I used to catch crawfish and mudpuppies by hand in a culvert under the railroad tressle. stepped on a broken coke bottle there. Ran the two blocks home. looked back, and could see the blood prints on the black top all the way back...
I wish i could have stopped at the more pleasant memory! -
Oh *sigh* Just beautiful! Gorgeous imagery of childhood.
Thanks so much for your entry
Gaylene
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