Ronald Bingham Poet Narrative

The Fishin Trip

The old campfire was pleasant as we sat by its flame.
   Talking about how things have changed, hardly anything stays the same.
Talking about the price of gas, now that got a rise.
    How you used to could fill up a tank for a ten dollar bill, that brought tears to old 
Bobs eyes.
Bob said he’s about ready to buy him a horse and be done with it.
   I said Bob you wouldn’t even know which end of the horse to put the saddle on, 
let alone make it fit.
He said yeah like you would, reckon I wouldn’t but least I know where to poke the 
key.
   That got him tickled and he said you’re probably right, can’t you just picture me?
Old Jake finally had to put his two cents in, he said Bob get you one of them 
hobby horses ride that to town.
    Well I could see old Bob getting a little agitated, he chunked some more wood 
on the fire and gave Old Jake a frown.
Bob said to heck with horses, gasoline and all that other bull, let’s talk about fish.
   Bob declared, bet I catch the biggest & probably the most, me and Jake pop off 
about the same time, don’t you wish.
I said you know what guys we’re going to sit here all night blabbering and ain’t 
none of us gonna feel like wettin a hook tomorrow.
   As we decide to turn in old Bob says, dang I forgot my piller either one of you 
got an extra I could borrow.
Goodnight guys, busy day tomorrow, get your rest.
   Come six o’clock tomorrow evening, we’ll see whose catch is the best.

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