The Lake Poem by Clyde King

The Lake



The lake this morning
is covered by fog. My little
dog waits impatiently for me
to take her fishing as I
gaze upon the rose
fingered dawn and anticipate
a good catch of fish.

I sit on the bank facing
the rising sun. I'm hidden
in the cattails and only a
thin cane pole can be seen
poking out, with a light
line and bobber barely seen.

I don't cast a shadow, I'm
as still as an old stump. The
fish will never see me sitting
here in the tall cattails. Fish
aren't stupid but they can't resist
bait food when they're hungry.
I'm counting on their hunger
for my breakfast. Now, if only
my dog will be still.

Dec.2020

The Lake
Tuesday, December 15, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: dawn ,dog,fishing,lake
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I live on a lake that I've fished many times.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Clyde King

Clyde King

San Antonio, Texas
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