Trot Lines

4:00 AM time to check the trot-lines. Catfish and turtles strung out deep in the muddy waters We would string the lines from cypress trees across a channel And mark them with fluorescent tape so we knew which ones were ours In the early morning we would get up and drink coffee and pee Then head down to the boats to make the rounds Sleepy but excited about what we might find had taken our bait Once in the boat we would traverse the cypress tress and stumps just below the water And find our lines With headlights we would shine down into the water as mosquitoes and gnats floated around our heads My brother would be in the front of the boat pulling up the line. I would sit in the middle ready to unhook whatever we pulled from the depths of the murky water. The old man was in the back keeping the boat afloat and calling the shots. He had grown up in the bayous of South Louisiana and knew ropes. Sometimes we pulled blue channel cats that weighed in at 40 pound other times a soft shell turtle. No matter we would eat them all. After we had hauled in our catch we would turn of the night-lights and drift for a while in the night and gaze upon the stars. Gods gift to all of us for being up so early. There were fewer lights back then and you could see the stars piercing the night like a needle. I never forgot those nights. And yes I ate turtle. At my house you ate what was put on your plate. McDonalds didn’t exist to my father. You gathered and you ate what God gave you. You can’t always get what you want. But you get what you need.