I wrote this creative piece. It concerns where I would rather be than the frigid weather that’s been occupying Lubbock.
Wake up at 5 a.m. just to make it on time.
Remember the bags stuffed with Wal Mart supplies,
Grab the poles, tackle box, and Dad’s lucky hat.
Sit in the middle because I’m the smallest,
Two brothers crammed on either side
My only solace is the steaming box of kolaches
Traditions are a thing of beauty.
Driving to the other side of the island, salty air calling your name–
Round the bend, recognition raises the gate,
Marina air is something you don’t smell everyday.
Capt. Jim with his familiar musty smell. He never changes,
We age every year.
He smells perpetually of the sea–
Glad to know our Old Spice Christmas Present is getting used.
Load up the boat, a new deck hand every time
How he goes through them so fast we’ll never know.
It’s past 7 and we’re late again.
Year after year it’s always the same,
We’ll never learn,
Those harsh deep-sea rays will teach us a lesson we won’t soon forget.
Hours pass by,
We’ve finally made it,
That green-blue ocean water stretches for miles.
Hook your bait
Cast your line, let it drag out
Slowly reel up
Fish on.
About pbrewton
