The Fisherman
By Jake Dudas
The sun shimmered on the vast sea.
The waves are rolling and constantly heave.
Birds squawk and sing aloud.
He is lonely, they are his crowd.
He is old and wise but real strong.
He can stand and fight for very long.
His white beard sways in the breeze.
With him everything is at ease.
He casts his lines out far into the blue.
His mind is patient, his heart is true.
He waits for the zing, the zap or the run.
But all there is, is the slow sinking sun.
But finally ZING! The lines run out.
The fisherman is excited, he runs with a shout.
He grabs the rod and reels with strength.
He knows this fish will be a great length.
He fights with vengeance and fights with pride.
This fish won't escape; it has already tried.
Seconds turn into minutes as the battle wages on.
He will fight with pride and courage until all his strength is gone.
Minutes turn to hours before he finally sees the fish.
To bring it in is his only wish.
It leaps into the air and is an old mighty blue.
The fish is magnificent, this fish is true.
The fish raises its fin as if in surrender.
The battle is over - she was a mighty contender.
He snaps a few pictures and lets the fish go.
He starts the engines; it is time to go home.
The battle is over and the day is done.
He slowly heads home into the slow sinking sun.
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