My sister is a fisher girl
who has an old cane pole.
With it she catches any fish--
walleye, trout and sole.
She uses mostly worms as bait,
big hunks of pink baloney,
sometimes chunks of cheddar cheese,
but nothing that is phony.
She ties her hair behind her head
to fend off skeets and flies,
but her feet are always bare
despite our mother's cries.
She likes to dabble in the creek
that rambles way out back,
or off the pier in Becker's Pond
a long cast from his shack.
On summer days she'll fish alone
before the rooster crows.
She'll place her catch on reeds she's cut
and line them up in rows.
Sis will clean them all herself
and even touch their guts.
On ice she'll put each fish filet.
The rest she gives our mutts.
My sister is a fisher girl
who makes us guys look bad.
She's got the angler's skill and touch
we only wish we had.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem, any type, about fishing. Any whale of a tale will do, even tall ones! |
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Wishing for fishing
Contest Winner
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Author Notes
RACHEL FISHING by Susan Murray. Courtesy of Google images.
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