Worm Food Poem by John W. McEwers
Worm Food
Dad once took me fishing
When I was a happy boy
And taught me how to hook a worm
plunge my fingers into a gooey cup
Where the little things squirmed
In dirt and pluck out a juicy one,
Hold its length toward the hook
And just, go ahead, push,
like putting my arm
Through a coat sleeve.
We all die one day, he said.
Don’t you worry.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: dad,fishing
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8/29/2026 4:34:50 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
