We smell the mossy breeze; it blows in like the leaves

We see the water splashing, our feet digging in the sand

We feel the cold tranquility; it slips through our fingers

We sink the hook on the bobber, ready for the fish we’ll soon see

We smell the bait on our hands, the stench of anchovies

We hold the poles with waited breath; time goes so slowly

We know that time is wasting, she will soon have to leave

We smile at each other, our thoughts swirl like the breeze

We must part in hours, our homes are far apart

We feel the tug on the poles, we smile with glee

We lift the pole towards the sky; it bends towards the end

We see the line tugging, the pole jumping around

We laugh out loud with tears in our eyes, reeling the fish in

We see the ripple in the water; the fish floats to the top

We catch it in the net; we seriously begin to cry

We know the time has come, we must say our goodbye

We unhook the fish, and set it back free

We will never fish together again, my mother and me



Jeannie O’shia writes: “I am currently enrolled here at Ashford University working to earn a BA in Educational Studies, a minor in Child Development, and a Minor in Writing. I enjoy writing and have recently discovered the love of writing poetry.”