Walking onto the dock it tilts to the right, creaking,
Old, graying wood and metal sinking into the muck.
Each year we venture in the water to raise it up,
watching out for Jaws the giant snapping turtle.
An ancient turtle the size of a hub cap lurks under our dock.
I stand at the end looking into the lake, the blue gills are neatly lined up.
The kids named them last year, Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner.
It’s spring, the water is clear. A bullhead snuffles in the mud
Searching for something to eat.
There are a few turtles noses poking up a short distance away.
Checking out to see who’s here, smiling, I think they are the
Nosy old women of the lake.
I throw in bits of white bread and watch the fish compete
For these morsels. I feel as though I am giving them a treat.
Watching them as I do, I admire their subtle colorings.
It’s calm on the lake, peaceful,
For now I can appreciate the beauty of these fish.
My kids haven’t named this years batch of panfish, yet.