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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

The Fishing Hole



I wish sometimes I could grab a pole

And head on down to a fishing hole

With nothing more than wire and rod

And leafy path that’s been well trod

That leads to places fresh and clean

A bit of world that’s still serene

I’d venture through the brush and thicket

Searching for the worm and cricket

Anything to catch my fish

To later be a tasty dish

I’m old enough to remember when

I could escape to shaded glen

It harkens back to simpler times

When Mother Earth was in her prime

We could kick back at the pond

Anguished not by woes beyond

Now we’re never on our own

We can’t detach from screen or phone

It’s hard to find that peace and rest

We need respite from daily stress

My hope for us is that we find

If not in body than in mind

A place that brings calm to our soul

Like dozing by that fishing hole…

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