The Fishing Trip (A Poem) Poem by Jim Milks

The silence of an early morn shattered by the alarm clock’s horn
Leaping from the protection of a warm bed, these thoughts run through my head ‘grab the gear; pick up the line, time for the fishing trip grows near.’

In the darkness of this early morn we start this ride, passed quiet streets and darkened houses. On the deserted highways as the miles roll bye (by) , my smile grows wide. Inside the car, a young man’s heart swells with pride. In the darkness we head out, in the darkness there is no doubt today is the day we find out.

Now the sun is shining on the boat, and sincerely
I have hoped for this day to never end. For my father to always be my friend.

Saturday has come and past and the feeling still does last, of a time of peace spent in the sun, a time alone just a father and a son.

This day has answered all of my wishes. We were never disturbed, not even by the fishes.

4/12/2007