Catfish Tom

          Sitting up in bed he stretches his arms up reaching for the sky, giving way to another glorious day. Pulling on his coveralls followed by dirty boots, seemingly to have started growing roots. Coffee to follow with a flick of his favorite lighter, igniting the tobacco that fills his lungs and day. Shutting off the lights and heading for the door, stopping to grab his lucky straw brimmed hat, while pulling in down tight hiding bed head hair without a care, he strolls on. 

           Outside and down the stone steps, ever carefully the broken pieces he's been meaning to fix. On to the boat he knows, sitting so pretty at the end of this rotten dock. Not much to look at say's most,but for him something to boast, passed down from grandfather to father and son, now his pride and joy. Barking behind him catches attention, while Turing just in time to catch the old dog by the ears, talking loudly now we are for good mornings I think anyways. Looking at him now I got to say boy, most of been out lookin for trouble and love for your covered in mud and bugs. Sorry not to day brother, important day it is for fishin, but a good bowl of chow when I return.

           Climbing aboard his sixteen foot skiff pulling anchor and letting her rip, off he was cutting left following the channel to the money making spot that has treated him great all year. Running for about  thirty to forty minutes north, he'll closed eyes and he could still navigate this course. Closing in on that delicious place that makes my belly race, spotting my trees and heading in, left an orange tag last time making my spot known. Engine cut and all is silent, while throwing out lines waiting for them whispered devils to take the bait. Good eatin to me and some of my friends, not for all with bones you see. A means for food , income and the god blessed passed down tradition. Oh, oh, look I tell ya a bite it is, while pulling in the line with that slippery fish , followed by a grin and a shout of, I'm Catfish Tom let the day begin