Fishing With You

By: Shelby BennerThe long windy dirt road.The sweet sound of the Beach Boys’Sound of Summer.You’re tallAnd you always wereYour tan pantsAnd your “#1 Grandpa” shirtWith my hand printsOn them.Your snow-white hair.Your skinIs dark tan;All yearlong.I inhale in a big whiffOf stinky slimyFish bate.My ear numbFrom the tickingOf the fishing poles:Mine tweety birdYours jet-blackAnd Kentucky-blue.The buzzing of thePurple and turquoiseDragon-flies.The over-joyedFuture fishermenShowing their proudFathers.The mothers have the babies;At the playground.You ask me howIs school going?I say well.Then we wrap it up.And head home.Where you hang your#1 GrandpaHat on the rack.