"Fishing"
The Pond is where God Sleeps at night
He rests there in the cool of the evening
Little fish nibble the worms on our hooks
But God won't let us catch them because
we fry them and eat them
The sun goes down and the lake is still and silent
Herons and canadian geese sing as it gets dark
in the swampy places there are probably more fish
I already know how to use a fishing pole
He baits the hook with a worm and casts it
The bobber sinks over and over, then resurfaces
Every time we reel it in, there is a little bit less worm
on the hook, but no fish.  I think the fish are pulling
chris's leg-or line, it is pretty funny to watch
we pack up as god pulls the covers over his head
and he tells us he loves us as he closes him eyes
and we come home and get in our soft bed
after our picnic of fried chicken and hashbrowns
on the dock of the pond where we went fishing.