I stand in the middle,
dead center under the roof,
yet still I am splashed by cold water,
both from the sides, and underneath.

The green lake water rises and falls,
as thunder and lightning crash and flash,
a slow moving storm, at mid day,
pushed by a slow breeze over me.

I am happy, as I lean on a boat,
hanging in a slip, gently swaying,
my spinning reel on a short rod
tipped with a chartreuse jig.

I drop it in the water to the bottom,
and reel it up one turn, and bounce it up and down,
a tug and a pull, and a fat white crappie,
with a black stripe and spots gets lifted to me.

Unhooked and in the basket, he goes,
several of his brethren already swim there,
their bite turned on by the storm,
I enjoy the sounds, sights, and fish.