Along a softly babbling stream
Moss covered trunks silently lean
Sunlight pours from on high down
Flies now idly ply around

A fisherman -me- on the bank sits
Floater bobbing, teasing fish
Sparrows idly flit softly by
While above the clouds now softly fly

The bugs, they flit from here to there,
While plants their flowers slowly bare,
Mosquitoes sound their droning whine
While stream trout nibble at baited line

Dappled bark and shaded stream
Memory hazy like a dream
I wish to travel back, back there
That timeless place, the Snake River

And this my idle classroom dream,
My heaven, fishing by a stream
Spins round and round my head at night
I'll go and grab my pole-first light