Old River

Written by: Caleb Smith

On a warm spring day, nearly twenty years ago
Three boys went fishing, with boat in tow
They drove an old chevy
Grandpa's three at the knee
It drove like an earthquake
Harder to steer than the sea
But the boys were content to drive the old beast
Dreaming piles of fish for an evening feast
They arrived at a place that was called the Old River
And with boat in water, they began the endeavor
The fishing was fair, and the breeze was blowing
Off to the south
Confidence growing
By the water's edge, sometime around noon
One lad spotted up a tree
A big fat raccoon
He had an idea then...a great one it seemed
What happened next...none of them dreamed
His cast his lure up with all a boy's luck
And all were amazed at what the lure struck
Because up in that tree, just making his bed
That coon got nailed, atop his gray head
For whatever reason
Maybe anger or surprise
The coon bailed out of the tree
No fear in his eyes
And to the dismay of the boys sitting there
He was coming right for them...raccoon of the air
One boy jumped left and the other right
Leaving the last boy alone...his cast...his fight
But he wasn't as quick as the others, you see
For he was a large boy, with the girth of a tree
The raccoon thrashed all about
He was pissed...that's for sure
And came for the boy who'd cast the cursed lure
But the lad had jumped out
And to all their delight
His weight shot the boat out, like a jet in mid-flight
So we swam to the bank
And sat there and shivered
As that old coon rode...
Our boat down Old River