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Summer's Almost Gone

Story ID:5843
Written by:Monte Leon Manka (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:retired
Story type:Poem
Location:Hemet CA USA
Year:1935
Person:Chelsea Kansas Kid
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Summer's Almost Gone

Summerís Almost Over

Mom, I going to go to the river
Iím taking my fishing pole
Iíll try to catch some catfish for dinner
Down by the old swimming hole.

Barefoot and shirtless
Down through the cowlot
On into the pasture down to the river
To my favorite fishing spot.

In this 2 block long walk
There are many things to see
Silly little things
That as a kid didnít mean much to me,

Ants around a little mound
Carrying things back to the Queen
Tiny pieces of something
Thatís barely seen.

Fluttering on a prairie flower
A beautiful Monarch butterfly
Sharing it with a couple bees
Pays me no heed as I walk by

The snapping of a Grasshopperís wings
As he flies away from me
Looking for greener stalk of grass
Out here on the prairie

A couple dung beetles
Rolling a marble sized ball of manure
Across the buffalo grass
Where to? I donít know for sure.

A couple Blue Racer snakes
Warning me to stay clear
Of their hole in the rocks
Donít worry I wonít come near.

Singing in the early morn
A Meadow lark and a Killdeer or two
Brightening up the day
Beneath the sky of blue

I look at the sky and see
A large hawk circling his prey
A field mouse or rabbit
That will be his meal today.

Iíll need some bait to tempt the fish
Out of that rotting tree root
I get a couple grub worms
And catch a crawdad to boot.

Bait my hook,
Toss it in the water
Lean back against a Sycamore tree
Keep my eye on the bobber.

Those pesky mosquitoes
Always in a swarm
Looking for a spot on my body
Where they can do the most harm.

Thereís a silly squirrel
Barking at me
Because Iím leaning
Against ďhisĒ Sycamore tree.

Cawing and taunting some old Owl
Is a bunch of noisy Crows
Theyíll give up after while
That wise old Owl knows

Easy kid your cork is going under
Set your hook
That crazy old turtle broke my only line
How will tell Mom there will be no fish to cook.

Back with not one fish
But this I can attest
As a barefoot, shirtless kid
Iíve seen Nature at itís best.
Monte L. Manka