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        | Fishing Hole By Brandon Glen Pfeiffer 
 Load up all my gear roll the windows down take off on the gravel road, swing the back end out heading to the fishing hole where the big fish wait dirt flying behind me dust in my eyes it’s a short drive to see the shimmering waves cast out in the water and hope the fish are brave if I look close I can see the fish Lots of largemouth Nestled in the weeds Beautiful and bright they still don’t want to bite maybe it’s too early maybe it’s too warm either way I don’t care, it’s good to just be out. When the fish don’t bite And I’m scorching in the sun I hold my breath, Jump in, The dust dissolves From my sweaty, salty skin. |