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by medea Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Poetry · Regional · #1698461
One of those Summer things It's typed as it was scribbled sort of non-punctuated
Fish Fry

Every day of Summer, when Daddy brought home bait,
In bathing suit and flip flops, God I couldn't wait
To take the minnow bucket and my cheap-o little pole
I'd trek through wild flowers down to the fishing hole

The days catch brought home, and larger booty weighed
I'd stand back in awe, at what we had displayed
The sand bass in a bucket, and catfish hung from trees
I got all excited 'cause most were caught by me

Take a pair of pliers, and skin the catfish live
Filet the others quickly, they didn't long survive
Piling up the good meat, throw the bones out in the pond
I'd stay and watch the carcasses being feasted on

I knew come the weekend, if I could just stand by
a community would gather near for a big fish fry
A handful of farm families together would we be
In the Summer sun, sweltering, drinking black iced tea

The women took the peaches from their garden trees
making home made ice cream to ease the Summer heat
A morning spent on baking fresh fruit home made pies
I just stood by waiting for those corn meal dusted fries

Soon after the main course had met most of our needs
Us kids took fresh watermelon and competed spitting seeds
Now with our sticky elbows and full tummies causing groans
Out came swarms of mosquitoes, it was now time to go home

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