Fishin’

“I always carry my pole with me,” you laughed, pulling up unexpectedly to a secluded pond by the side of the road.  Then you brought out a bright yellow lure.

“Would you go for this if you were a little fish?” you asked.

“Sure,” I replied, trying to think like a brim.

You cast your line out over the water and I sat back in the shade watching, just watching, as you reeled the lure back to you over and over, trying this spot then that.

I could’ve sat there forever, just watching you fish.

fishin-mountains

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About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard, doing things with my grandsons and spending time with my beau on his beautiful 22 acres in north central Florida.
This entry was posted in beauty, emotions, human interest, love, nature, nostalgia, poetry, psychology, relationships, spirituality, women. Bookmark the permalink.

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