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: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Like Loading...