Fishing 08 Tuesday Mar 2016 Posted by Caro Field in poetry ≈ Leave a comment Early mornings, Hugh and I Would go fishing in the creek. The sun would bathe the place In a gentle glow, As if it had been drawn anew. And we felt like we were The only two people in it. © Text Caro Ness 2016 Winslow Homer, Fishing, 1878 Share this: Share on X (Opens in new window) X Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Like Loading...