Runway to the Fishing Hole

Carefree days can quickly turn to terror

Sometimes thundering rains

Filled the ponds

On either side of the road

Until two became one

And the barrier warned

All who would travel

They couldn’t get through

From her kitchen window

Mom could see her boys

Worms jostling in the can

And fishing lines flying in the wind

Almost all the way to the lake

The trip had been made

Many times before

But this one would be remembered.

The boys intent on their catch to be

Could hear nought but the go-cart engine

But through the open window

Mom could hear much more

The familiar sound of the crop duster

Coming in for a landing

Gripped her heart with fear.

It wasn’t until the rush of wind

From propeller and wings took their breath away

Then the boys knew too the danger they’d risked

The pilot with week knees

Walked to the house

Mom fixed him some tea.