Fishing With My Dad

I saw a little barefoot boy
With fishing pole in hand
Walking dow a winding road
Kicking at the sand

He reminded me of a boy from the past
Tom Sawyer, or maybe Huck Finn
I wa curious as to where he was going
So I followed him

He knew exactly where he was going
And sat beneath a spreading oak tree
He said "Hi Dad, I'm Here"
No, no one came with me

He seemed to be talking to a voice from nowhere
But soon he settled down

Fished in silence for a while
Then said "Bye Dad, see you tomorrow"
Then took the road back to town

Oh, how I envy this little boy
Who goes fishing with his dad
He'll never let the memory die
Of the good times that thay had

So I went home and got my pole
And felt extremly glad
As I went back to our private fishing hole
To go fishing with my dad



Marie D. Weis
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